


Myshka

by Riparia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Consent Issues, Emetophobia, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Parent/Child Incest, Pursuing and ignoring boundaries, Shame, Vomiting, this fic is basically sex scene after sex scene, until I decide to let them get over the guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:49:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 39,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riparia/pseuds/Riparia
Summary: Viktor is Yuuri's father. Yuuri's mom was Japanese. She's gone, and they only have each other.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 627
Kudos: 454





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [philatos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/philatos/gifts).



> DL;DR. I have official therapist approval to write and post.
> 
> Phi and everyone else who helped and encouraged me, thank you, I love you!
> 
> Unbeta'd. Feel free to point out spelling mistakes and typos.
> 
> Hope you have fun! If you're rude I'll just enable comment moderation, so don't waste your time. You can't yell louder than the people who love me.

Viktor is pulled from sleep by a too-familiar scent and a warm body wrapping itself around him. For a moment he almost thinks it's his wife, his best friend, the woman he could never love the way she deserved. But she can't be here. It can't be her. She's gone.

He opens bleary eyes to find a blurry shape in the dark, its outline showing short messy hair. Yuuri. His heavy eyelids fall closed and he groans.

"Myshka," he rasps. "You're getting a little old for this."

"I need a hug," Yuuri replies, a little shaky.

Viktor makes a questioning sound.

"I had a dream."

"Bad dream?"

"... Kind of."

Something in Viktor's mind tells him this response is odd, but he's too exhausted to think why. He should just tell Yuuri it's inappropriate, especially with Viktor sleeping shirtless. He's fifteen, not five. Years ago, Yuuri's mother tried to break Yuuri's habit of coming to this bed. Viktor sabotaged the attempt, not intentionally, but simply by being too weak to Yuuri's pleas.

"Come here," Viktor says eventually.

Yuuri cuddles in, face in Viktor's chest and arms around Viktor's waist. Viktor holds him close and tries to ignore the feelings that stir in his gut with Yuuri's scent in his nose and his body against his own. Yuuri's skin is soft against his and he fits so nicely into Viktor's arms. How horrified would Yuuri be if he knew the thoughts that pass in his own father's head? He probably wouldn't be able to look at Viktor, let alone touch him. He swallows down a pang of guilt.

"Good night, Yuura."

"Good night, dad."

Before sleep fully claims him, Yuuri shifts in his arms. Viktor thinks nothing of it, not even when he wraps both arms around Viktor's neck and rests his thigh over Viktor's. It's just Yuuri getting comfortable, as usual. It's not the boy's fault that Viktor's mind takes every innocent action and runs with it, making every little movement of Yuuri's body into something obscene.

Despite everything, Yuuri's warmth and scent are soothing, and Viktor is still exhausted. Soon, he starts drifting.

Something rubs on the side of Viktor's neck, stimulating his gland, before Yuuri buries his nose there and inhales deeply.

Viktor jumps, eyes flying open, and pushes him away. "What did you just do?"

Yuuri's eyes are wide with guilt.

"What were you thinking!?"

"I thought you were asleep."

"Yuuri." It's a warning and Yuuri's shoulders tense.

"I... I needed to know..."

"What?"

"... How we smell together."

And with that, realization dawns.

It was Yuuri's wrist. Yuuri rubbed his wrist on Viktor's neck.

His scent is strong in Viktor's nose, and it's not supposed to be enticing. It's not supposed to spread a fog of lust over his mind. They're  _ family. _ Ever since Yuuri's first heat, Viktor was struck by how unnatural his reaction is to Yuuri's scent. And now it's threatening to drive him mad.

"You scented me."

Yuuri nods, still tense.

"Yuuri, you can't just... Just..."

Yuuri hesitantly moves to hug him again and Viktor captures his wrists without thinking, stopping him. The hurt expression on Yuuri's face breaks his heart. 

"Dad...?"

Viktor doesn't answer. He thinks back to all those moments he thought he imagined. The little innocent pecks Yuuri used to give him lengthening just a fraction. Having to adjust Yuuri's sitting in his lap to avoid inappropriate touches. The little suggestive rolling motions he thought he felt from Yuuri when he cuddled and the boy tried to pull them closer and closer together.

"I wasn't imagining it all, was I?"

Yuuri shrinks. "I keep... I keep feeling... I want to try..." he trails off, turns his head away. "I want you."

Viktor doesn't know if he's feeling excitement or dread. "You can't want... You don't know what you're asking."

"Then teach me. I keep dreaming about it."

_ Bad dream? _

_ Kind of. _

Wrong definition of 'bad,' apparently.

"Yuura," Viktor starts, sick with arousal and pushing back the lust to tell Yuuri to leave his bed.

Yuuri starts shaking his head. "Don't. Dad, please, it's always you, in every dream. I don't— I can't—  _ Please _ ."

Viktor is exhausted, agitated and over-sensitive, surrounded by a kind of suffocating heat that wouldn't be out of place pre-rut.

The desperate begging is too much.

He rolls them over, pinning Yuuri's wrists to keep him from taking more. Even this, Viktor shouldn't give him.

"Just a kiss."

Yuuri exhales in relief and angles his face expectantly.

_ You can still stop this,  _ a reasonable voice in Viktor's mind pleads.  _ Take it back. Tell him no. Make him go. _

Viktor doesn't. Yuuri's disappointment would be too much to bear.

He leans in and lets their lips touch. Yuuri surges into him, his moan muffled by Viktor's mouth. He kisses hungrily, clumsily, and Viktor can't help but match it, taking control and guiding the kiss with just as much fervor. The scent of Yuuri's excitement is so strong Viktor can taste it.

When he flipped them over, one of his legs ended up between Yuuri's. He becomes aware of it when Yuuri starts grinding on his thigh. He needs to stretch himself to do it and he whines in frustration when he can't get proper friction. 

Viktor breaks the kiss, meaning to tell him he isn't supposed to be trying this at all. Yuuri strains to follow, but he's held back by Viktor's hands on his slender wrists.

"Yuura—" Viktor starts, but Yuuri doesn't let him finish.

"It's not just dreams," he says quickly, "it's all the time. I think about you all the time. When I'm in heat, when I—"

Something in Viktor snaps and he groans and kisses him again, deep and devouring. He doesn't mean to hold himself lower, but apparently he does, because Yuuri can now grind properly on his thigh and arch his body to meet Viktor's chest.

Yuuri gasps and moans into the kiss, his body moving beautifully under Viktor's. It takes everything he has not to let go of Yuuri's wrists and rest a hand on his torso to feel his heartbeat.

At first he fools himself into thinking he's going to stop any moment now, but Yuuri's motions go uneven, his voice high, his kisses messier. And he still doesn't stop them.

Closer and closer and closer. Viktor knows he isn't going to stop, and he hates himself for it.

Slick wets the fabric of Viktor's pants. The smell is suffocating, overwhelming, and for a moment Viktor wishes there were no layers between them. Immediately after, the shame almost chokes him.

He gasps for air and opens his eyes in time to see Yuuri's face contorted in pleasure, a string of little "Ah" sounds growing louder. He's thrashing against Viktor's hold, his slick soaking Viktor's pants and his hips are barely even twitching.

Viktor can't help but stare at Yuuri as he comes, a beautiful sight that isn't meant for him but will be seared into his mind forever, until Yuuri goes limp in his bed.

Viktor lets go of his wrists and lies down next to him, trying in vain to clear his mind. He'll need to open a window, let some air in this room. He doesn't get up.

Listening to the sounds of Yuuri catching his breath, Viktor suddenly notices he's purring. Light and quiet, barely there. Somehow, it makes everything worse.

Desire still burns in Viktor's veins, and he lets the shame and the guilt eat at him. With his eyes closed, his imagination runs wild with ideas that should be sickening. Tearing Yuuri's clothes away, plunging into that wet heat that's still felt on his thigh like a brand despite the slick itself having cooled down.

He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, hoping to dispel the thoughts, but Yuuri takes it as a sign he can speak.

"Dad?"

"What is it, Myshka?"

"That's... it? Not... You don't want...?"

Viktor goes tense as soon as he realizes what Yuuri is asking. "It's... Please," he says, sounding more pained than he meant to let on, "please, don't ever ask for anything more."

Yuuri shuffles closer and Viktor sighs and opens his arms, letting Yuuri sink into his embrace. Yuuri clings to him like he's afraid and Viktor holds him close and strokes his back, feeling lost. His Yuuri looks so small he wants to cradle him and carry him everywhere, safe and warm in his arms.

Viktor can't calm down at all, his body burning with a storm of emotions that only becomes worse as Yuuri slowly relaxes, his breath going slow and even.

"Don't hate me," Yuuri mumbles, sleepy.

"I couldn't" stands on the tip of his tongue, but when Viktor opens his mouth to say it, he can't. If he speaks, Yuuri will hear his tone. He kisses Yuuri's temple instead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut this time, sorry! Poor Viktor is not ready, and I'm enjoying how tormented he is.
> 
> I'm not promising a chapter every day, I was just in a bad mood and posting cheers me up.
> 
> As usual, no beta.

Viktor leaves the bed before the sun rises. Yuuri shifts, still asleep, and buries his face in Viktor's pillow.

Viktor hurries out of the room.

He spends too long in the shower, trying to scrub his body clean, but still feels filthy. Especially with how much he hates washing away Yuuri's scent.

His cock is hard and aching after so long spent with their scents mingling in the air. For a moment he considers touching himself, thinking of Yuuri's face when he came, the way his wrists twisted in Viktor's hold. He turns on the cold water and forces himself to stand there, shivering, until he's soft. There's a sharp ache that comes with the denied orgasm, but it will pass.

When he leaves the bathroom, he sees Yuuri stepping out of Viktor's bedroom hugging his pillow. He looks up at Viktor and wilts when Viktor doesn't meet his eyes.

"You should take a shower, Yuura. I'll make food."

Yuuri goes back into Viktor's bedroom, probably to return the pillow there, and Viktor heads to the kitchen to make waffles. He'll drown them on syrup, the way Yuuri likes them. It's a pathetic apology, but he can't think of a better one.

"Yuuri, breakfast!"

Yuuri emerges, again, from Viktor's room. He looks defeated.

"You didn't take a shower?"

Yuuri shakes his head.

"Hurry up, then. These are better fresh. "

Yuuri cleans up and sits to eat. He's enjoying the food, but keeps glancing up at Viktor. Viktor knows why. He's sitting across from Yuuri instead of next to him. Yuuri isn't used to this. He tries to nudge Viktor's ankle with his foot, and Viktor draws his legs back and crosses them under his chair. Yuuri stops glancing at him after that.

Viktor keeps making meals to indulge Yuuri. Keeps picking Yuuri's favorite shows and movies and favorite activities. Yuuri seems to appreciate it all, but his smiles are still subdued.

Whatever got them to this point, Viktor wants to fix it. But he doesn't know how.

After two weeks, he wakes up with Yuuri in his bed again. Not touching him, just lying curled up on the other side of the bed. He's wearing nothing but flimsy shorts. It makes sense for the weather, but not for Viktor's bed.

"Yuura?"

"Are you going to send me away?"

With Yuuri here, everything is tense. "I should."

There's a beat of silence.

"You don't want me here anymore." Yuuri sounds like he's holding back tears.

Viktor groans. He's too tired for this. "It's just not a good idea, Myshka."

"So I'm losing my home now?"

Viktor's bed? Yuuri's home? Confused, Viktor rubs his eyes and blinks away the last threads of sleep. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw your search history," Yuuri says, openly crying. "I'm not an idiot. I'm doing well in my classes from  _ home _ , I don't need to go to some... Some school far away where I won't see you anymore."

Oh. The boarding school idea that makes Viktor feel like he's contemplating tearing away his own limb.

Viktor sighs. "I won't send you if you don't want to go. You'll see me on holidays if you go. But I thought, a bit of distance... Maybe if you could have better relationships with kids your age..."

"I don't want kids my age."

"Yuura, what I did—"

"It made me happy! It made me happy, until..."

"Until?"

Yuuri sniffs. "... I wouldn't have been happy if I knew you'd find me so disgusting after."

Viktor's heart breaks. "Yuura, no—"

"Don't deny it! You haven't touched me at all in two weeks!"

There's not much he can say to that, but he tries. "Yuura, I could never find you disgusting. You could never make me love you less. But... After what happened, what did you want me to do?"

"I want you to touch me," Yuuri cries and grabs Viktor's hand, pulling and holding it to his bare chest. "Dad, I want you to touch me more, not less!"

Viktor growls and Yuuri finches but holds firm, tears still streaming, and keeps Viktor's hand splayed over his chest. Yuuri's nipple peeks through between two fingers. The hand looks strangely large on Yuuri's body.

"Yuuri, this is wrong."

"It's what I want."

Viktor pulls his hand away and Yuuri lets it go. The pain of hurt and rejection Viktor smells from Yuuri urge him to say yes to anything he wants, but he's more clear-headed than he was on the night he regrets. He can resist Yuuri this time. 

"I'm not sending you away to school. I  _ might _ send you away to your own bed."

"No. You owe me a cuddle. A lot of cuddles. You made me go two weeks without."

"You're not a child, Yuura."

"You used to like that I don't act like hugging is embarrassing."

"I still do. But this is different."

"Hug me. Please, dad?"

Viktor sighs again and gets up to get a shirt. He hates sleeping with one, but it's the one barrier he can put between them.

"You should wear a shirt too."

Unsurprisingly, Yuuri doesn't move. Viktor shakes his head.

With a shirt that's soft enough to only be a minimal annoyance, he returns to bed and lets Yuuri crawl into his arms. His focus narrows to the touch of his hands on Yuuri's bare back.

"You really don't think I'm disgusting?"

"There's nothing you can do to make me think you're disgusting."

"But you'd send me away?"

"Not against your will."

"Promise?"

"I promise. There's nothing you can do to lose me."

With this, Yuuri finally calms down.

Viktor tries to fall back asleep, but he can't. Yuuri nuzzles into his collarbone and breathes in. He pulls himself closer, trying to have as much of his body as possible pressed against Viktor's.

"Yuura," he warns.

"I'm sorry. I just... I missed you."

Having no idea how to address this is exhausting. Viktor suppresses yet another sigh. "Let's just sleep, Myshka. This isn't right."

Yuuri looks like he wants to say more. Eventually he just settles down and says, "Okay. Good night, dad."

"Good night, Yuura."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ESL speaker, so I'm sorry if anything is wonky. This is purely self indulgent, I don't care about the quality. That said, if you read all that, I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I have chapter 4 written and chapter 5 started, have chapter 3!
> 
> The smut is back. I wrote this for guilty sex, so that's what you get

Now that Viktor doesn't avoid him, Yuuri takes every chance he can get to touch him. He cuddles Viktor on the couch, hugs Viktor and holds on, sits in Viktor's lap when there's no space beside him and sometimes when there is. Touching often isn't unusual for them, but this is. Yuuri is still acting like he's scared to lose him.

It doesn't make sense.

Yuuri kisses Viktor's lips, the usual little pecks they used to share, and then pauses with their faces close, unwilling to pull away. Viktor feels his longing with every breath. Or maybe it's his own. He has to gently push Yuuri away and kiss his forehead, ignoring everything from theatrical pouts to expressions of heartbreak and sour scents of rejection.

They're watching a movie, Yuuri sitting sideways in Viktor's lap, when Yuuri shares one of his worries.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"You're... my real dad, right?"

Viktor blinks and looks at him. "Of course, Myshka. I raised you."

"No, I mean..."

"Biologically?"

Yuuri nods.

"Of course I am."

"You're sure?"

"It's in your scent. You have your own, but it has a bit of mom and a bit of me, if you look for it."

"Why, then?" Yuuri hides his face in Viktor's shoulder. "Why do you smell so good to me? What's wrong with me?"

Viktor's heart squeezes with understanding. He wants to say "Nothing is wrong with you, you're perfect," but Yuuri's question is too much an echo of his own, and he can't give  _ himself  _ that answer. He holds Yuuri and rocks them back and forth, as if he's a child who needs soothing.

The conversation doesn't leave Viktor's mind for days. Knowing that Yuuri feels as broken as he does changes things. He doesn't know what, or how, but something is different.

Yuuri joins him in bed, like he does almost every day now, and Viktor's arms wrap around him automatically. He jumps when Yuuri buries his face in his neck, but Yuuri just breathes him in without trying to stimulate his gland. Even just the proximity makes Viktor feel sensitive. Yuuri places a leg on his thigh.

"It's not fair," Yuuri mumbles. He smells of arousal, but he also smells sad. Viktor never smells one without the other on Yuuri anymore.

"What?"

"I'm trying to make it be enough." The words are quiet, soft. "Really, I promise I am. But it's not fair."

Viktor waits, releasing some calming pheromones into the air, hoping it will help.

Yuuri hugs him tighter. "I want you. I've wanted you ever since before my first heat."

Seven months of this. "I'm sorry I never noticed."

"It's not fair." Yuuri sounds like he might cry again. "I try, by myself. I try and I try, but... It's too sad alone."

The direction this is going is risky. Viktor shouldn't encourage it. But Yuuri is pouring his heart out, and Viktor can't resist an opportunity to understand his boy better. "Too sad?"

"It's... It feels nice. A little. At first. Then I remember what it was like with you, and I..." he chokes on the rest of his sentence, letting out a sob, but Viktor gets the idea.

He holds him quietly, thinking of the long nights Yuuri must have spent tormenting himself over his desires and fearing rejection. Viktor knows what it must have felt like. He's dealt with the same feelings. But when Yuuri was brave enough to act on it, rejection was what he found, even if Viktor keeps reassuring him that he doesn't find him gross.

He thinks of Yuuri in his own bed, touching himself and trying to find release, to feel good, only to end up keeping in sobs because of Viktor's response.

"It's not fair, dad," he repeats, and he's right.

Viktor kisses his forehead. Yuuri clings to him, fingers twisting in the fabric of Viktor's shirt.

Denying himself is the right thing to do. Denying Yuuri, though... He can't quite convince himself.

"Will it help if I hold you?"

"It helps a little, when you hug me."

This misunderstanding gives Viktor an out he should take, but... "You make yourself feel good, Yuura. I'll hug you."

"What?" Yuuri's eyes snap open. "You'd... do that?"

"If you want."

Yuuri bites his lower lip, staring at Viktor in disbelief. There are still a few tears streaming down his face, but his breathing starts to even out.

"Really?"

Viktor strokes a lock of hair from his face and offers a smile, the gentlest he can manage. "Do what you need to, Myshka."

There's a spike in Yuuri's scent, arousal overwhelming the other emotions. A trembling hand reaches for his briefs and sneaks inside. He eyes Viktor like he's waiting for him to change his mind, but Viktor just keeps the calm smile that doesn't reflect his feelings.

Yuuri, at least, should enjoy this.

With the first gasp, Viktor pulls him in, keeping him close so he doesn't see Yuuri's body or his face. It doesn't stop him from breathing Yuuri's scent, hearing Yuuri's voice, feeling the movements of Yuuri's body when it starts twisting in pleasure. All he can do is keep himself in place.

It's made worse when Yuuri starts talking, rambling between gasps and moans and whines about how good it feels, how much better it feels with Viktor.

Viktor cups his cheek and — a bit more forcefully than he intends — pulls Yuuri in for a kiss to silence him.

Yuuri moans gratefully and lets Viktor lead the kiss, rolling his lips over Yuuri's, sucking on his lower lip and biting it lightly. Yuuri purrs and Viktor has to kiss him harder, encouraging his purring to grow louder.

They're panting for breath, drowning in each other's scents, when Yuuri manages, "Touch me?"

"Yuura—"

"Please?"

"I shouldn't—"

Rolling onto his back, Yuuri grabs Viktor's hand and leads it down. His fingers are wet. Viktor shivers, realizing Yuuri stopped touching himself to ask for this.

"Dad, need you."

Unable to refuse even though his mind screams at him to stop, Viktor slips his hand into Yuuri's briefs, directly touching the searing heat he's been fantasizing about for months. He moans along with Yuuri, then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

This isn't for him.

Viktor strokes Yuuri's folds without pushing in, slick wetting the tips of his fingers. His motions are slow and teasing, studying Yuuri's responses to find where and how it feels best. His fingers find Yuuri's clit and he starts rubbing in circular motions, like he remembers doing for his wife years ago. The difference in how it feels is stark, even with over a decade apart: with her he felt nothing. With Yuuri, it's _everything._ The response is gorgeous. Yuuri moans, his hips moving, trying to get more and more from Viktor's hand. His expression is like nothing Viktor has ever seen.

_ This is for Yuuri _ , Viktor reminds himself. He has no right to enjoy it.

Yuuri's thighs start trembling when Viktor finds a good rhythm and Viktor buries his face in the pillow near Yuuri's head, trying to focus on Yuuri's pleasure without adding to his own. It's impossible. Every sound and movement light him up.

"More," Yuuri begs. "Dad, more."

Viktor doesn't know if he means harder, faster, or if he possibly wants to feel full. And he doesn't want to ask. He doesn't want to speak at all.

A finger slides inside, testing and exploring. Wet and hot and slippery, the feeling is so tempting it leaves Viktor breathless. He can't help but imagine fucking him, making Yuuri scream louder and louder by driving into him. His hips buck into the mattress once, but he stops it.

"Nonono, dad, keep going," Yuuri babbles, "you too, you too."

Shit.

Viktor raises his head and kisses him. For a moment, Yuuri melts. Then resists.

"Distracting me," he protests.

"So?" Viktor says, changing his rhythm, adding pressure, wringing another moan out of Yuri.

"Ah— I, I, ah, want... Dad,  _ you _ feel good too."

Viktor is already enjoying this too much. It's sickening. "Don't worry about me, Myshka. Dad can take care of himself."

Yuuri doesn't seem happy with that, but he accepts the next kiss, letting Viktor stop him from saying something more. His lips are sweet and his kisses grow more confident. Something possessive in Viktor revels in knowing he brought him here, from his first fumbling kiss to this. Viktor is the only one to taste these lips, the only one to hear this voice, to smell Yuuri's scent when he's lost to his touch. He tries banishing the feeling. It's awful, disgusting, wrong. Made worse by being so thrilling.

Viktor pulls his fingers out, causing a whine of protest from Yuuri until he rubs the slick on Yuuri's clit. Yuuri yells and jumps.

"Feels good," he cries again, high and lovely, "dad, more." Always more.

Viktor swallows down some ill-timed emotion that threatens to suffocate him and tries pressing Yuuri's clit with the base of his hand, pushing two fingers easily inside. He can't get a good angle on Yuuri's clit, so he twists his hand to press and rub it with his thumb.

The position hurts the base of his thumb. Something cruel and vicious in Viktor's mind says,  _ Good. You deserve it. _ He finds himself agreeing.

Viktor presses harder along Yuuri's walls, finding the spot he wants and massaging it with harsh strokes back and forth. Yuuri kisses him hard, moaning encouragements and thanks into his mouth, and moves his hips to fuck himself on Viktor's fingers.

Despite reminding himself over and over not to enjoy this, the best he can do is deny himself an orgasm. Even with pain to distract himself with, it's impossible not to enjoy Yuuri.

Yuuri breaks the kiss when he comes. Viktor keeps his eyes closed, his forehead resting on Yuuri's. He has no right to this sight, but in his mind, he sees it anyway. He knows the way Yuuri's mouth falls open, the way he looks like he's surprised by how good it can feel.

He pulls his fingers out of Yuuri and resists tasting them despite the way his mouth waters at the idea. He wipes them on the sheets and hugs Yuuri's trembling body, feeling Yuuri's purr vibrating against his chest. Another bit of delight he shouldn't be able to enjoy.

"Dad, now you?"

Viktor holds back a grimace. He was hoping Yuuri forgot.

"Sleep."

"But—"

"Yuura, this was already more than I agreed to."

Yuuri shrinks and looks down. "Sorry."

"Sleep. Don't make me insist every time."

Yuuri nods and nuzzles into his chest. Seeing him like this, Viktor is reminded of a quiet and broken "Don't hate me," whispered in this bed weeks ago.

"I love you, Yuura. Good night."

Yuuri relaxes a fraction. "I love you too. Good night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is not the best father but it's fun to write him this way


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My girlfriend said "Write like you’re a kid who just found a bunch of crayons and an empty white wall" so that's what I'm doing. I do what she tells me. Both because she's usually right and because she has really sexy domme vibes I can't resist.

Viktor is folding laundry when Yuuri comes and hugs him from behind. The basket from the dryer is on the floor and with Yuuri clinging the way he is, Viktor can't bend to take another piece of clothing.

"Yuura?"

"You're doing it again," Yuuri says.

"I'm not. I'm hugging you all the time."

"You know what I mean. You know you're doing it again."

He's right. Even while touching him, Viktor keeps himself distant.

"I thought it was okay," Yuuri complains. "Why was it okay and then not?"

Assuming Yuuri is referring to the way Viktor touched him, Viktor says, "It wasn't okay at all. It was bad judgment on my part."

"It made me happy."

"And that's why I did it. But it's not right to—"

"You keep saying that," Yuuri snaps, and Viktor pictures a small animal warning him away from touching a wound. "Stop saying that."

"I don't know what else to say."

"You can tell me why. Give me a good reason."

"That is a good reason."

"It's not. Give me one reason that will be enough."

"I suspect no reason will be enough for you."

Yuuri holds him tighter.

"You know I'm right."

"But I don't want you to be right."

"Yuura."

"I don't. I shouldn't have to."

Viktor sighs. If he could change reality for them, he would, but he can't change the facts. "Let go, Yuura. I want to finish this."

"No."

"Our clothes will wrinkle."

"I don't care."

Viktor breaks Yuuri's hold on him and turns to push him away. Yuuri's eyes are wide and bright like he wants to cry.

"You force yourself to be around me. You hate it."

Viktor doesn't know how to correct that without giving away too much. "Get ready for ballet. You need to be ready when I finish this so I can take you on time."

Yuuri looks at him for a moment and shakes his head. "You don't have to. I'll take the bus."

Viktor watches him disappear into his room. He gets ready and leaves the house without a word.

With the clothes folded and the house empty, Viktor collapses on the sofa, arm over his eyes, feeling lost and exhausted. The pull towards Yuuri is hard to resist. He can't keep away for long. Not really. Not now that he knows how much it hurts Yuuri when he does. But... isn't it his responsibility to make the difficult choice, the one that hurts now but will make them healthier later? Like when Yuuri was small and Viktor had to force him to take medicine he hated.

Back then, he sweetened the deal with candy and hugs and cuddles and promised to let Yuuri sleep in his bed for the night. Yuuri curled up with him, small and soft and feverish, and Viktor felt nothing but a warm protective love. The way he should feel.

Where did they go wrong?

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but he wakes up to the door opening. He sits up as Yuuri steps inside, sweaty from practice.

"Okaeri," Viktor says automatically. A little habit he kept from his wife.

Yuuri gives him a small smile. "Tadaima."

Viktor smiles back, encouraged. "Shower before we eat?"

Yuuri shakes his head. "I want to eat now. Is that okay?"

Usually it wouldn't be, but today Viktor allows it. They eat quietly, with Yuuri sharing a short anecdote from practice. Yuuri can't seem to decide if he wants to lean into Viktor or not and ends up doing it about half the time on and off. His smell is overwhelming, but Viktor hopes his feelings aren't visible and keeps eating.

After dinner Yuuri goes to his room and Viktor washes the dishes. When he's done he sits on the couch, intending to take a book and read. But Yuuri walks to him in an oversized shirt, so large it reaches halfway to his knees. One of Viktor's. He doesn't smell of soap.

"Didn't you shower yet, Yuura?"

Yuuri ignores the question. He climbs onto Viktor's lap, so sweaty it feels as though he's practically leaking pheromones.

"Felt lonely," Yuuri says.

"So you came here," Viktor smiles, trying to project a kind of indulgent amusement. A pretense of normalcy.

Yuuri tilts his head. "Where else would I go?"

Viktor's heart swells with love. He extends a hand to stroke Yuuri's cheek and Yuuri captures it and closes his eyes, breathing in the scent from Viktor's wrist. Viktor wonders when his love for Yuuri became like this. When it changed shape. It was always deep and all consuming, but he misses the innocence. The joy of it.

Yuuri gets up and adjusts his sitting in Viktor's lap, sitting sideways and leaning into Viktor's chest. Viktor wraps an arm around his lower back to steady him. He cradles Yuuri, stroking his hair and his cheeks slowly. The repeated motions are soothing. Viktor wants to take this calm moment and tuck it under his heart. He wants the ability to fool himself, just for a moment, into thinking what he feels is okay. If he could, would he be as happy as Yuuri seems to be?

Yuuri's eyes are closed, so calm that he might be asleep. Viktor brushes a thumb over Yuuri's cheek and runs the tips of his fingers down the side of his neck. Yuuri shivers and Viktor moves his hand away.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you hate it? When I scented you?"

Between lying and revealing more than he wants, Viktor chooses neither. "Why do you ask?"

"I miss it," Yuuri says quietly. "It smelled  _ so _ good and I miss it.

"Is that why you took my shirt?"

Yuuri nods. "It's not the same, though."

Viktor takes Yuuri's palm in his, lacing their fingers without touching wrists. He leans in and smells the air near them.

"Almost."

Yuuri makes a face and Viktor chuckles, drawing Yuuri's hand to him and kissing his thumb.

"No good?"

"You know it's not."

Viktor's laughter fades and he sighs. "I'm sorry, Yuura."

Yuuri's eyes narrow at his tone. Oops. Too sad.

"Here," Viktor says, letting go of Yuuri's hand to reach for his neck. Yuuri still eyes him suspiciously at first, but melts at the first burst of Viktor's scent against his skin. Viktor tries to be gentle, keeping the stimulating touch to a minimum, but Yuuri leans into it and shudders anyway, smiling and closing his eyes.

"Smells good," Yuuri says. His scent spikes with arousal, and Viktor can't help but respond to it.

He kisses Yuuri's forehead and tries to ignore the way Yuuri clings to him, the way Yuuri squirms, his thighs rubbing against each other. He removes his wrist from Yuuri's neck.

Yuuri says, "Kiss?"

Viktor kisses his nose and his forehead and his cheek. Their combined scents make his body warm, but Yuuri's feels even hotter.

Yuuri looks up at him. His eyes look almost dazed. "Please, dad?"

_ Just for a moment. Just for now, let it be okay. _

Viktor kisses him, tasting the little moan that leaves his mouth. He cups Yuuri's cheek, letting the scents that cling to his wrist surround them. Yuuri rests a palm over the back of his hand and kisses deeper, quicker, asking for more.

Viktor smells Yuuri's slick and has to stop and gather himself.

"Dad, you smell like... like..."

Arousal. Deep and overpowering. "I know."

"Before, too. Your scent... Does that mean... It's not just me?"

Yuuri sounds hopeful, and that removes Viktor's ability to lie.

"No."

Yuuri takes Viktor's hand and leads it down between his thighs. He doesn't need to make a verbal request.

Viktor reaches under the shirt, under Yuuri's briefs, finding him hot and wet. He kisses Yuuri's forehead in apology, because what he's doing to him is reprehensible, and wets his fingers with slick, eliciting a now-familiar gasp. The smell immediately spreads and thickens in the air, making Viktor's blood burn.

Yuuri is as expressive as always when Viktor touches him. Moaning loudly, arching his back one moment and curling up in Viktor's hold the next. Viktor cradles him, tucking Yuuri's head under his chin.

He can't resist savoring the scent. If only he could find a way to keep the scent of Yuuri, his arousal, his slick, all filling the air and clouding his mind... Better not. He'd never be able to have a rational thought again.

Viktor's cock is hard, trapped between Yuuri's body and his own, and he can't escape the delicious pressure. Yuuri's squirming makes his lovely thighs rub against the fabric of Viktor's clothes, and Viktor resists moaning. Last time he gave in and showed how affected he is by this, Yuuri begged him to come too. This time, he doesn't think he'll be able to resist.

He needs to make Yuuri come so he stops moving and allows Viktor to position him more safely. At the same time, every cell in Viktor's body craves  _ more _ .

Yuuri's voice pitches higher. Just a little longer.

Yuuri grips his shoulders to anchor himself and Viktor takes the opportunity to lift his hand from Yuuri's back to his neck. He presses two fingers to Yuuri's gland, massaging it, and in a moment of weakness opens his eyes and looks down to see Yuuri's reaction.

Yuuri's legs open wide, lifting the shirt enough that Viktor sees the base of his hand. His fingers are still covered. He wants to lift the shirt the rest of the way, push inside and see the glistening pink folds spreading around his fingers. He doesn't, instead carrying on with the steady circles around Yuuri's clit, the pressure of his fingers on Yuuri's sensitive gland. His boy is close, so close, and he's so beautiful when he is.

"Dad," Yuuri chokes out, the first word spoken in a while.

"Yes, Yuura?"

"I... I—  _ Ah _ —"

Viktor never finds out what he means to say, because the next moment Yuuri comes, his fingers digging into Viktor's shoulder.

Viktor gives him a short moment before shifting the way they sit. He's achingly hard and he's going to feel this denial sharply. By now he knows that pains like these don't relieve any of the guilt.

Yuuri is limp in his arms, whimpering a little when Viktor moves him, but starts to purr as soon as Viktor cradles him again and strokes his hair.

"Hand... Smells good," Yuuri says.

The hand that touched Yuuri, smelling strongly of his slick. Viktor doesn't say anything, but he agrees, and it makes something in him happy to know Yuuri appreciates it too. Something he should be resisting.

Yuuri opens his eyes. "You want me too."

Now that Yuuri knows this, he'll be relentless. Viktor knows his son, and he knows that guilt over forcing Viktor into this is the only thing that keeps him from coming to Viktor's bed more often than he sleeps in his own. "I wouldn't say that. It isn't so simple."

"But you don't hate this. That means... It means..."

"It means nothing, Myshka. Nothing good can come of this."

Yuuri looks away. Viktor hates causing this expression.

"We should shower and go to bed."

"Your bed?"

"Not tonight, Yuura."

Yuuri's expression makes Viktor wonder if he can give him happiness without disappointment, once in a while. But Yuuri nods. "Cuddle a bit more first?"

Viktor concedes to that.

If Viktor thought that giving in would help Yuuri handle some distance, he was wrong. For the next days Yuuri clings to him, staying close and if he can manage, in Viktor's lap. When Viktor tries to comment on it, to ask what the issue is, Yuuri just says, "Don't push me away again." It breaks Viktor's heart. He says nothing more about it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me longer than usual this time, didn't it? That's because I started outlining, just a bit. This is my comfort fic. I have chapter 6 all planned out, and the rest of this story in vaguer terms that I'm slowly refining. I hope you'll all enjoy it!

Yuuri seems fixated on seducing Viktor.

At first, Viktor doesn't realize that the way Yuuri is eating his ice cream is meant to be sexual. Then he adjusts his shoulders, tries to lean back, and Viktor realizes he's imitating sexy ads.

It's not sexy. It's adorable.

Melting ice cream drips down Yuuri's chin and Viktor grabs a paper napkin to clean it away, laughing. He kisses the boy's forehead. "Come on, Yuura. I know you can eat cleaner."

Yuuri sulks, but stops making a show of eating ice cream.

Summer always had Yuuri wearing less clothing around the house, but now it seems that he refuses to even look in his own closet. He's wearing Viktor's shirts, if he even wears any, and his usual underwear. Viktor tries to hide the way his eyes follow Yuuri's legs, staring at the way the fabric of Viktor's shirts rests above his butt and accentuates it. Yuuri sometimes reaches back and adjusts it, but it always rides up again.

Yuuri doesn't seem aware of the appeal, which Viktor is thankful for. Especially now that he knows Viktor doesn't hate touching him the way he wants, if Yuuri knew how affected Viktor is, he'd take advantage.

Viktor is ready to go to bed when he smells something different. He sniffs the air, and the scent leads to his pillow. He takes it and goes to Yuuri's room, holding it up, and frowns when Yuuri looks at him innocently from the bed. No confusion. He knows why Viktor is here.

"Did you scent my pillow?"

"... Yes?"

"What are you trying to do?"

Yuuri bites his lip.

"Yuuri."

"I'm sorry," Yuuri says like he's holding back a smile. "Don't be angry."

"You don't look sorry."

Yuuri makes a better attempt at rearranging his features. Viktor sighs in exasperation. He throws the pillow to Yuuri's bed and leaves. He has other pillows, and the annoying smell of storage is better than this.

When taking care of laundry, Viktor finds a pair of lacy panties. He's used to handling Yuuri's underwear, but he never saw him in lace, and they smell strongly of Yuuri and his slick. Strong enough that it doesn't come just from wearing them casually throughout the day.

"Yuura, come here!"

It takes a few minutes, but Yuuri peeks through the door, biting his lip.

Viktor shows him the panties. "These don't go in the machine."

"No?"

"You have to wash them by hand."

"But you do the laundry."

Viktor laughs. "Not this time."

He stands by the sink as Yuuri washes them, giving him tips and trying to ignore the pretty blush on his face. He can't stop looking at it, but he doesn't think Yuuri notices.

In the end, it isn't seduction that gets him. They cuddle for an episode of Yuuri's favorite show, like they do every day. Viktor tells himself the usual lie about having gotten used to holding Yuuri when he wears so little. For long minutes, he has to feel Yuuri's warmth sinking into his skin. Smell Yuuri's scent changing subtly, like it always does when they're touching each other.

When the ending song plays, Yuuri asks, sounding contemplative and uncertain, "Dad? Do you like it when I'm sad?"

Viktor frowns. "What?"

"I mean... sexually. Do you enjoy it?"

The idea of getting pleasure from Yuuri's sadness is somehow worse than anything they did up until now. "Of course not. Why would you ask that?"

"It's just... It's like you only want me when I'm sad."

It makes a certain kind of sense. Every time Viktor gave him what he wanted, Yuuri had to get near tears first. He keeps punishing Yuuri by punishing himself, and at that moment, that thought upsets him.

He kisses Yuuri's forehead. "What do you need, Myshka?"

Yuuri looks encouraged. "Show me something new."

"Like what?"

Yuuri bites his lip, considering him. Viktor is certain he has something specific he wants to ask for, but when Yuuri speaks, he says, "Something that feels good for both of us?"

The first thought to cross Viktor's mind is that Yuuri wants Viktor to fuck him. He's thankful for the vague request. He doesn't think he'll be able to stand receiving _that_ kind of pleasure from what he does with Yuuri. So he won't deny him, not really, but he won't give him what he probably expects.

"Let's go to bed."

Viktor sits with Yuuri on the edge of the bed, kissing him. Stroking his arms, his back, his cheeks, his smooth bare thighs. He wants to give Yuuri more. Soft words of affection and closeness, things that he would hear from a lover in a normal relationship. Thinking about it makes him feel like a monster, so he doesn't try. Yuuri's scent is so happy it almost allows Viktor to pretend he isn't a horrible person for this. He doesn't want to ruin that.

He's so tired of feeling bad.

When Yuuri seems to get a little impatient, Viktor slides off the bed and kneels in front of him. Yuuri makes a little noise and when Viktor looks up he sees him looking confused, face a deep red. He looks so self conscious with Viktor there. Viktor pushes him back a little so he isn't bending forward.

"Don't worry, Myshka," he says, smiling and hooking his fingers under the band of Yuuri's underwear, "you asked for something we'll both enjoy and that is what I'm giving you."

Yuuri nods and shifts around to help Viktor pull his underwear off. Eyes still on Yuuri's face, Viktor pushes the boy's legs wide apart. Yuuri is trembling slightly, looking like he has to fight from curling in on himself and keeping Viktor away. But his wide eyes are fascinated, excited, and that's enough.

Viktor takes a deep breath to steel himself, and is immediately assaulted by the scent of Yuuri's slick. It's potent, deep with anticipation. Viktor's breath speeds up a little, as if his blood itself is demanding to suck in more of this scent, and he groans quietly.

Feeling drunk, he finally lets himself look.

The sight is new. He never let himself look at Yuuri's glistening folds or taste the slick off his fingers after pleasuring him. Now he doesn't know if he'll ever be strong enough to deny himself again.

Yuuri is gorgeous.

Viktor deliberately kept himself clothed to keep from temptation and he's grateful for that. Right now the only thing keeping him from pushing Yuuri into the bed and plunging into him, giving him what he wants, is the _time_ it would take to take them off. His cock is hard, tenting the fabric.

"Dad," Yuuri squeaks above him, and Viktor is probably taking too long because Yuuri's legs are fighting his hold and Viktor has to forcefully keep them open. Deciding to spare the boy further embarrassment, Viktor dives in with a long lick.

The flavor when it hits his tongue is better than the sight and the smell combined. It clouds his mind and he licks again to taste more. Yuuri lets out another high pitched noise and Viktor eases back, kissing softly in apology. Too much, too fast, let him get used to it. Sweet, lovely Yuuri.

He kisses softly around the outer lips, enjoying the moisture that gathers on his mouth. He's so wet it smears all around. Yuuri's cunt seems to pulse, twitching and clenching on nothing with every little kiss.

"Dad?" Yuuri's voice trembles more than his body. "Isn't it weird?"

"Mmm?"

"The taste."

Viktor almost wants to laugh. Instead he licks alongside the entrance, first on one side and then the other, and hums at the taste. He needs more, and holds back only to ask, "Did you try?" His voice is lower than he expected.

"A few times. When I was... by myself. You always lick your lips when you touch me and I thought... I..."

He trails off, but it's enough. Viktor now knows his Yuuri was touching himself, imagining Viktor's mouth on him. Viktor moans at the thought. "Myshka, you're—" every word of praise in existence is standing on the tip of his tongue, but he can't complete the thought, can't encourage something like this from his Yuuri. Instead he growls, deep and possessive, and gets back to work.

Yuuri gasps, jolts, curls forward. Viktor licks up again and again, a little harder and deeper each time, until his nose and the skin around his mouth are wet with slick and spit. He listens to every little moan as the sounds grow louder, pushing his tongue in and feeling Yuuri's cunt parting and pulsing around it as slick gushes out. The flavor of it coats his tongue.

His cock aches. The muscles of his groin can't help from contracting rhythmically. The pressure of the fabric feels good, with the little shifts of movement that he's helpless to stop translating it into delicious friction. Normally this wouldn't be enough to feel good, even a little, but with Yuuri's taste, his heat, the way his legs shake on either side of him, it's dangerous.

Foolishly, he decides to ignore the feeling, desperate to keep his focus on Yuuri. He licks up until he reaches Yuuri's clit and sucks, forcing out another scream. Yuuri whimpers when he stops to breathe, giving it a kiss before finding one Yuuri's scent glands at the base of his thighs and nuzzling into it.

"Dad—" Yuuri gasps, overwhelmed, and Viktor kisses each side before burying his face again in the delicious heat of Yuuri's cunt.

Yuuri's legs part and rise, giving Viktor better access. He hums his appreciation, licking Yuuri's clit, trailing down, sucking and licking, and Yuuri's hands grip at the back of his shirt and pull. Viktor imagines biting and marking Yuuri all over. He can't stand to pull himself away from the taste of him, but the thought still pulls from him another possessive growl. Yuuri responds to it with a breathy cry, a quiet "dad, dad, I— _Ah_ —"

He planned to let Yuuri's sounds guide the rhythm he takes and the actions he repeats, but he can't. Now that he has his mouth on Yuuri, there can't be a plan of action. All he can do is devour, without thought. His own body throbs with heat and he can't bring himself to stop or slow down. Yuuri's voice rises in his ears, wordless, desperate cries.

Yuuri comes, beautiful as always. And Viktor is shocked when he follows, an orgasm is punched out of him, untouched, his body finally giving in to the pleasure he finds in Yuuri.

They're both panting, Viktor with his forehead on the edge of the bed, swallowing down the hot bile that rose in his mouth and chased away the disgusting pleasure of his orgasm. It refuses to leave, choking him. He swallows again and a quiet strained sob escapes his throat, finding itself trapped behind his pursed lips.

That's when he notices his tears.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Yuuri, splayed on the bed and still recovering, says something Viktor can't hear. He feels oversensitive and raw, but he has to pull himself together, stop the tears. So many awful things he's willing to do for Yuuri, but—

It's a pathetic excuse. He enjoyed every moment. He didn't let Yuuri's preferences guide him. He was lost to the pleasure of Yuuri's flavor.

_This wasn't supposed to happen._

It never happened before. Sex was never like this before. Why does Viktor feel this way for _Yuuri?_

Giving his son the love that he never gave to his only partner. Couldn't give her.

The feeling twists in his gut, painful and ugly, thorns injecting poison into his bloodstream. The pleasure of orgasm never felt so wrong.

"Dad?"

He sounds worried. The happiness in his scent is spoiled.

Viktor takes a deep breath, turns his face to let the sheets absorb the tears, and waits a bit more to see that they won't continue flowing before he lifts his face to meet Yuuri's confused eyes. He moves back onto the bed.

"How are you feeling, Myshka?"

"I... It was..." Yuuri hesitates. "Did you... Did you hate...?"

"Oh, Yuura, no." Viktor cups Yuuri's cheeks in his hands. "You asked me for something we'll both enjoy. I wouldn't put myself through something I hate after that."

Yuuri swallows. "Your eyes are red."

Hearing that from Yuuri almost gets the tears to come back. Whatever expression passes across Viktor's face when he holds them back, it makes Yuuri's eyes widen. Viktor hurries to hug him close, his face in Viktor's neck, close to the calming pheromones he's releasing.

"Shhh, Yuura, it's okay."

"But—"

"I wouldn't lie to you about this. I enjoyed it."

"Then why did you cry?"

"... It's complicated.

"Your scent is different. Not happy. And there's something else, too. Just... Different."

The smell from his orgasm. "It's nothing bad," he says, because Yuuri would probably think of it as a good thing. "I promise, I'm not lying. Do you trust me?"

Yuuri nods and tucks himself into Viktor's chest. Viktor hugs him, feeling like he's the one who needs something to hold onto.

"You didn't tell me how you liked it."

"It was good," Yuuri says, muffled by his shirt. "The best."

Despite this, Viktor gets the feeling that Yuuri won't be asking for anything new anytime soon.

"I'm glad. You wanted something new and I didn't want to disappoint."

"Heat soon," Yuuri says like he's admitting something shameful. "I wanted nice memories. Lots of them. For when I'm alone."

"Oh."

Yuuri's upcoming heat completely slipped from his mind. It'll be the second. Last time, Viktor could barely stand how good Yuuri smelled. Staying with family is considered the safest, especially for someone Yuuri's age who isn't used to his heats. That's because usually, family isn't affected by the scent. But Viktor is.

If Yuuri stays, crying for him, begging, smelling the way he did a few months ago, with their relationship as it is... There would be no boundaries left.

He needs to find Yuuri a hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is about being horny for Viktor's pain.  
> Hope you had fun! Feel free to let me know if you did!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this one but if you enjoy Viktor's pain as much as I do, you won't mind much. :P

"You said you wouldn't send me away," Yuuri says, accusatory.

Viktor shakes his head. "We were talking about a boarding school then. That's not what we're discussing now. You can't pull this about anything I suggest. Would it be sending you away if I asked you to go shopping?"

"Going to a heat hotel isn't the same as going shopping."

"It isn't being sent away, either. Be logical."

Yuuri storms off and Viktor hopes he didn't just make the boy cry again. He sighs. Yuuri knows he'll be alone for his heat. He said so himself. But he probably thought he'd still have his own room. Home scents rather than neutral ones. Comfort rather than a lack of danger.

He has a small list of hotels to go to, to ask and see what they offer. He'd hoped Yuuri would go with him, choose the one he likes best. But it seems that Viktor has to make the choice for him.

Scent blockers placed on clean skin, doing his best to avoid contaminating the places with an alpha scent, and he gets dressed to leave. Before he does, he goes to Yuuri's room. The boy is sitting in front of his computer, playing a video game and sulking.

"Before I go, Myshka," Viktor says, giving him a little note with a website and login details. It's awkward, but it's also a matter of health and safety when a heat is concerned. "My credit details are saved to this account. You can buy yourself a few toys for your heat if you don't go overboard."

Yuuri doesn't answer. His lower lip quivers. Viktor doesn't know how to make it better, so he leaves.

The first hotel he looks into is nice and warm. He's guided by an employee to show him one of the rooms. It has a nesting bed, but most hotels of this sort do. It's a bit small, just enough for a nest to fit.

When questioned on how prepared they are to help a fifteen years old through heat, the answers he receives are unsatisfactory. The employee seems a little uncomfortable, saying that they aren't used to accommodating someone going through their first heats.

"We'll make the effort if you have no alternatives," she says eventually, "but I'd advise against it. I only saw omegas this young stay twice in my years working here, but it was a nightmare for both."

He pictures Yuuri there, on the bed, lost in the haze of heat and feeling lonely and abandoned in this unfamiliar place. Something protective stirs in him. Something... comforting, almost. Protective is a normal thing to feel for his son.

He swallows, thinking of how this woman would probably react if she knew the reason he's looking for places for his son to stay. Suddenly he can't stand to be in public, seen by so many people. He feels filthy, like he could taint anything with his presence.

He doesn't know where the strength to think about being  _ polite _ comes from, but he thanks her calmly and walks away with measured steps, not allowing himself the swift escape he craves. He planned to look at two more hotels but he wants to hide away, not interact with oblivious strangers who treat him like he's  _ normal _ when he's anything but.

He catches a whiff of his own scent before he even reaches his car. He can't go to another hotel even if he wants to; the emotional turmoil means the expensive, high-quality blockers aren't enough.

The short ride home calms him down a little, but he still has to sit in his parked car, closing his eyes and breathing, slow and deep.

At home, there's Yuuri. Who once accused Viktor of hating his presence. Viktor doesn't. He loves it so, so much. Yuuri is slender and lovely, fitting so nicely in his embrace. It was bad enough when all he had were his own perverted fantasies and desires, when he could threaten himself with Yuuri's rejection to keep from acting on them. Now his mind is full of  _ memories. _

A headache begins to pound at his temples and he groans, leaving the car and going back home.

Viktor opens the door and finds himself greeting what seems like an empty house. Yuuri isn't in the living room. He isn't in the kitchen or in the bath or in his bedroom, either. He doesn't answer when Viktor calls his name.

Wary, Viktor goes to his own room and opens the door.

The scent hits him all at once and he recoils. The air smells of sadness, rejection, arousal,  _ sex,  _ heavy and thick, hanging in the air.

"Yuuri," he barks, "what the _fuck_ —"

Yuuri stirs in his bed, raising his head from Viktor's pillow and blinking at him, looking groggy. Like he was sleeping.

Viktor takes a few calming breaths. The scent isn't helping. He can feel himself getting hard and he hates it.

"Yuura," he forces out, "what are you doing here?"

Yuuri makes a face and hides in the pillow. "Scent."

"What scent?"

"Yours. Needed it."

Yuuri got into Viktor's room, touched himself in Viktor's bed while releasing clouds of his scent into the air, and went to sleep. Viktor holds back a growl. He doesn't know if it's anger or possessiveness that has a stronger hold on him and he needs the control. Yuuri's shoulders are hunched and tense and despite everything, Viktor doesn't want to scare him.

"Open a window," Viktor finally says and shuts the door.

He heads for the bath, where he can lock himself in and soak the air in clean, manufactured scents. Neutral scents. Ones that don't feed everything he hates about himself.

As soon as the water is streaming and the air is smelling of Viktor's soaps and hair products, he lets himself slide down and lean his head back.

His erection doesn't vanish, but he ignores it for now.

He can't do it today, but he has two hotels left to look into. One of them will have to be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Viktor will be forever haunted by the thought of walking into the room just a little earlier.
> 
> Hope you had as much fun as I did!
> 
> Oh, and, 18oi readers? I see you ;) Thank you! lol


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next both have no smut. That makes three in a row! My original plan was smut in almost every chapter. Viktor isn't letting me get to the sex! I'll have to make up for it later. You've doomed your dick, Viktor.

Suds of soap swirl down the shower drain, hiding Viktor's come as it's washed away. Viktor hangs his head, panting, feeling like he might throw up. Water runs down his hair and his face, making it hard to breathe.

Giving Yuuri what he wants is one thing. Finding pleasure in it, intentionally, even here on his own, even just in recalling the way it felt— That's a whole other matter.

Something hot and painful blocks his throat and he tries to swallow past it.

_ Don't cry. Yuuri knows when you cry. _

He curses the way his skin so easily paints itself red.

It's not Yuuri's fault. Yuuri shouldn't have to bear this guilt. Viktor is the one responsible, and if he isn't capable of making the right choice, he might as well be the one to carry the weight of the wrong one.

He washes himself again, getting rid of the scent and the sweat he'd worked up and wishing his shame would be this easy to clean up. The fact that he's able to face Yuuri after doing this illustrates how bad things got.

Is there a way to fix them, at this point?

When he leaves the bath, the door to his room is open. Yuuri's scent from before is in the air, now spread thin through the house, but it's dissipating. He probably listened to Viktor and opened the windows before sitting on the sofa, where he is now.

Dinner is thankfully made, since he thought he'd have to spend much longer outside looking at hotels. He'll have to find another day to do it.

"Yuura, take a quick shower. I'll heat up dinner."

"You always try to get rid of my scent."

_ It's too enticing. It makes me feel like I'm losing my mind. _ He's too tired for this. "Just do it. Please."

Yuuri's eyes clearly show he's hurt, but he goes to the bathroom. Viktor heats up the food and sets it on the table, fighting the urge to pour himself a glass of something stronger instead of water. Less control is not what he needs right now.

Yuuri is awfully quiet when they sit to eat. About halfway through the meal, he speaks up.

"Would it help if I blocked my scent? Do you want me to wear a collar? Wrist bands?"

Useless. Those would get soaked in minutes and his scent would leak through.

"Why would you do that?" Viktor asks. "They're horribly uncomfortable in heat. What would that help?"

"I don't know..." Yuuri is holding his fork, but he isn't eating anymore. "I won't stink the house as much? You won't have to deal with my heat scent."

The word  _ stink _ referring to Yuuri's scent is so wrong. Viktor feels responsible for making him think this way of himself.

"You think I'm looking for a hotel because I don't want to deal with your  _ scent?" _

"Heat scent is different, right? Don't you hate mine?"

No. Viktor loves it. That's the problem. "Myshka, your scent isn't the issue."

"It's my home too. You can't just make me leave."

Viktor's headache is coming back. "What do you want me to do, then?"

Yuuri sits quietly for a while, taking apart the food on his plate. He sounds painfully sad when he says, "When I talked about my heat, I told you... if I have to be alone, I wanted good memories to have with me. This... whole thing... this isn't what I wanted."

"What you want is a bad idea."

Yuuri sets the fork down and looks at him, eyes harsh. "I wanted  _ good _ memories."

"Yuura, this isn't forever. At most, it's  _ three days. _ You're talking about memories like you won't see me for a year."

"Don't pretend it's normal. No one my age has to leave for hotels."

"Nothing here is normal. Our entire...  _ situation _ isn't normal."

Looking down, Yuuri quietly says, "Relationship."

"Yuura."

"Call it a relationship."

"No."

Yuuri gets up and goes to his room, leaving his meal half eaten and slamming the door after him.

Viktor groans, but really, he wants to scream. The day is a disaster. He needs to see if they have ibuprofen.

If he expects the day to let him rest now that it's time to sleep, he's wrong.

He changes the sheets and flips the mattress to dull any scents that had soaked into it. Knowing that the pillow in his bed carries Yuuri's scent, he heads for his closet. Living with an omega who might want to nest, he has plenty of pillows and soft blankets. He picks one up at random, smells it, and freezes.

He drops the pillow to the ground and picks up another, and another, and—

Every single one smells of Yuuri.

This time, Viktor is definitely angry.

He strides over to Yuuri's room and knocks on the door. When Yuuri doesn't answer, he knocks again. The door opens and Yuuri slips out and closes it behind him, leaning against it and looking small.

"What?"

Yuuri's voice is disinterested, but his expression gives him away. He's still upset.

Viktor doesn't bother explaining why he's here. "I'll start locking my door"

Yuuri doesn't look up. "I'll steal and replicate the key"

"Yuuri."

"I mean it."

Viktor forcefully holds himself together, not a sound out of place. Every muscle in his body tense with irritation. He feels like his entire life lately is a poor exercise in control.

"You can't do something like this. It's invasive, it's disrespectful, it's—" The words  _ crossing boundaries _ come to mind, but he's in no position to use them and anything else that he could think to say would be warped by anger. He exhales. "I'm sorry for taking you out of your room. We'll have to talk about this in the morning. Good night."

Yuuri doesn't answer as Viktor leaves for his bedroom.

Does Yuuri have to make it all so difficult? Viktor should have stopped this on the first night. Yuuri's disappointment wouldn't have broken them. They're family, they would have recovered. Instead he's stuck feeling like he's drowning in quicksand, unable to move without sinking deeper.

Viktor almost considers sleeping in the car.

He takes one of the blankets, folded up deep in the back of a high shelf, and uses that as a pillow. Tomorrow he'll have to go get them all cleaned.

He sleeps poorly, traces of Yuuri's scent keeping his mind running with thoughts. Especially when he notices, in the quiet of night, that it started changing subtly in preparation for his heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a WARNING, that's also a SPOILER:
> 
> Yes, they really are related in this.
> 
> It will have a **happy ending** because I'm invested in those two being happy together. But that's NOT going to be "thank God, we're not really related." This is a self indulgent filthy mess. Don't expect it to turn healthy. Just happy.
> 
> ... Once I'm done torturing them. And we have quite a bit of that to go. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm impatient

In the morning, Yuuri avoids him. He spends too long in his room, then too long in the bathroom, then too long in his room again. He only goes to eat his breakfast when Viktor goes to shower, and by then it's cold. When Viktor gets out, he sees the table empty and clean. Viktor lets him have some time as he tends to other things, but when Yuuri retreats again after rushing through lunch, he goes to knock on his door. Yuuri doesn't answer.

"Yuura, I need your help with all the pillows."

No response.

"You can't hide and ignore me forever. We need to talk and you need to help me fix your mess."

The door opens a crack. "Having my scent there is that bad?"

"It's not about that. It's about respect for someone else's space."

"Why do you get to have your space and I have to give up mine?"

Unbelievable. What a reason to act out. As if he hasn't been waltzing into Viktor's space, even joining him in bed, whenever he wants. Viktor's hands go to cover his face. How do you discuss lines and boundaries in a situation like theirs? He planned to sit and talk properly, but now he isn't sure what to do.

He hears Yuuri's door opening and closing and when he lowers his hands he sees Yuuri standing in front of him, looking dejected.

"It was territorial, then?" Viktor asks finally.

"I don't know."

Viktor sighs. "Instincts can be confusing at your age."

Yuuri frowns and looks away, annoyed.

"You still have to help me get the pillows cleaned. Let's take them to the car."

They have fifteen pillows, and despite how light they are, they're big and fluffy and difficult to carry all at once. They have to take multiple trips. Yuuri picks up their throw pillows from the sofa as well. Viktor doesn't comment on it, but finds himself a little amused by how thorough his Yuuri was. Not even leaving _those_ for Viktor in case he tried to sleep on the coarse lumpy things.

They take the pillows to be professionally cleaned, and Viktor considers making Yuuri do the talking, making him clean his own mess. But Yuuri smells nervous, so he doesn't push. Just pays to have the pillows cleaned. Three are missing from the count. Probably forgotten at home.

On the way back home, Yuuri asks hesitantly, "Was it necessary? Don't I get to use them for a nest later anyway?"

"The scent might annoy you when it gets old if we don't clean it. You don't sleep with all of them, so the scents won't change with yours when the heat gets closer. It'll smell wrong."

"How do you know?"

"I don't, but it's common," Viktor explains. "And it happened to your mom. That was just one pillow and she threw it out of the room. Couldn't have it anywhere near her nest. I don't want to take a chance on you not minding and risk ending up no usable pillows."

Yuuri takes it all in quietly, then says, "So it's for me?"

Viktor wants to say yes, but something stops him. It's unlikely that Yuuri will nest at all, when he's alone in an unfamiliar hotel room.

"It's just in case, Myshka."

Viktor doesn't know what will make him feel worse: sending him to feel alone and abandoned, or letting him stay and... dealing with the consequences of that. He knows what the right choice is, but the question feels more complicated than it should be.

"I'm planning to go see the other hotels now. Are you sure you don't want to come with me?"

"Yes," Yuuri says, sounding more distant now. Viktor is certain it's because of the mention of hotels.

"I'll drop you off at home, then."

Yuuri says nothing for the rest of the ride.

The first hotel is so sterile and white that Viktor thinks he's hit by snow blindness. Yuuri likes warmth, and this doesn't suit him at all. When asked about accommodations for Yuuri's age, Viktor gets a strange look, a technical list of services that would be sufficient for adults accustomed to heats, and a cool "I would keep my child at home."

As if this is about the _hassle_ of dealing with a heat. He pushes the shame behind his annoyance and leaves with a cold smile and a colder "Thank you."

The last hotel is fine, for the most part. The bed is huge, lovely for a nest and a partner, but useless for a boy in his second heat. There's no way he'll feel safe enough to nest. Viktor pictures him tucked against the wall, lonely in all that space, curled into a single blanket. Like the two before, there isn't much to offer to an omega in Yuuri's age.

Viktor doesn't stay there longer than he has to. His scent is starting to seep through despite replacing his blockers when he dropped Yuuri off. And after last time, he worries about what he'll find at home.

He does find Yuuri in his room, but not in his bed. The doors to his closet are open and Yuuri is kneeling with a white cardboard box open in front of him. He's wearing a dress. A very familiar dress, black with a pattern of red flowers, that doesn't sit right on his frame. It's too big.

"Oh," Viktor says quietly and enters the room. "I forgot about this."

Yuuri looks up and stands, looking sheepish and fiddling with the skirt of the dress.

The box at their feet is full of his wife's clothes. The ones he couldn't throw when she died. He kept her favorites; fancy dresses that made her feel beautiful, or comfortable everyday clothes she wore most often.

Seeing it has Viktor choked up, eyes stinging. Even if he couldn't love her the way he expected to love a spouse, he misses his friend. He misses having someone to talk to when he's not sure what to do with Yuuri. Someone who, like him, has Yuuri as the center of her world. He misses the way they could lean on each other.

Yuuri, wearing her dress, looks lovely.

Viktor joins him to take a close look. "She would have loved how this looks on you."

Yuuri smiles, but then his expression falls. "But she would have hated... some things... about us."

Viktor thinks of several responses, the most diplomatic being "I guess we won't know now." That is a lie. He does know. The truthful answer is "Yes, most likely. Knowing this would tear her apart." But he can't say it.

"Do you want to wear one of her softer outfits? Then we can play a game you want."

Yuuri nods, accepting the distraction. Viktor leaves the room and shuts the door to let him change. He goes to prepare some snacks, hoping for a quiet day together, finally.

Yuuri picks a racing game, something to play in the living room together. He defeats Viktor easily time after time, no matter how hard Viktor tries to make it a challenge. Yuuri's mood improves significantly.

When he gets tired of the game, they watch a movie. Yuuri cuddles close and comes to sit in Viktor's lap, but for a change doesn't try to start anything. When he thinks about it, Viktor realizes Yuuri probably feels uncomfortable pushing to be touched in her clothes.

He's happy for the reprieve. He kisses Yuuri's forehead and Yuuri doesn't try to kiss his lips in return.

The calm evening ends when Yuuri goes to shower and change for bed. He takes clothes from his room with the same careful slipping in and out of the door that he did this morning. Usually he doesn't mind Viktor seeing his room. The secrecy, the missing pillows, the presence of Yuuri in his closet when Viktor came home. To quiet his suspicions, Viktor uses the time and goes to Yuuri's room. When he opens the door he almost collapses, but grips the doorframe.

There, in Yuuri's bed, is the beginning of a nest. It has the missing pillows and a small collection of Viktor's clothes.

It's hard to tell with this being his second heat, but his scent changing should place him around a week from heat. He shouldn't be nesting yet, but he is. Viktor's first thought is that Yuuri did this on purpose. He created this nest intentionally to force Viktor to let him stay.

A short search online, though, tells him he might be wrong. It could be that with Yuuri's place in his own home being threatened, Yuuri instinctively responded by trying to give himself some security and permanence.

Moving him from the nest is out of the question. And going away himself isn't safe, either. Yuuri wouldn't be able to take care of himself. If Viktor leaves him alone, he'll come back to Yuuri severely dehydrated at best, likely hurt in other ways too.

All that work, for nothing. The exercises in control were useless.

Yuuri isn't going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean to give them a break, but they were both tired, so it happened.  
> Smut comes back next chapter~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why sad Viktor is so much fun, but he is

Viktor leaves Yuuri's nest alone, letting Yuuri think it's a secret for a bit longer. When Yuuri leaves the shower he kisses Viktor goodnight and slips into his room carefully.

Viktor hates lying to him, even by omission, but he needs to settle himself into this new reality.

For a couple of days Viktor goes through the motions. Working, running errands, cooking together, taking Yuuri to ballet, helping him study at home. But normal life is more tiring than ever. The idea of Yuuri's heat is always in the back of his mind, on the edge of his awareness, terrifying for how appealing it is.

Yuuri stopped coming to Viktor's bed, since sleeping out of a nest is difficult. He makes up for it by clinging to Viktor during the day, sitting in his lap whenever he can.

"Myshka, I'm trying to read," Viktor says at one point.

"Read later. Hug me."

Unable to deny him, Viktor sets the book aside and wraps his arms loosely around Yuuri. His scent is very different now, and there's a permanent undertone of faint arousal. An edge that affects Viktor too.

"I think you're officially pre-heat," Viktor tells him quietly.

"Does that mean I'll go to a hotel soon?"

He sounds so sad. Almost scared.

"Yuura..." Viktor exhales and leans back. "You should have told me about the nest."

Yuuri goes tense. "I didn't think it would matter."

"You think I'd take you from your nest?"

"You kept talking about how it's the only option."

"But this is your nest. I wouldn't— I—"

The rest of the sentence lodges itself in his throat and refuses to be spoken. He hurt Yuuri enough for him to think Viktor would _remove him from his nest._

The fact that Yuuri didn't bring it up means he didn't make it to manipulate Viktor. It means Viktor hurt him enough to alter a very primal, ingrained instinctual behavior. It's not an easy thing to do. How much is he hurting his son every time he tries not to hurt him? He can choose the tool with which to do it, but not to avoid the harm.

Viktor cups Yuuri's cheek, his heart aching.

"Come here."

Yuuri leans into him, tucking himself under Viktor's chin. Viktor keeps him in a warm embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Myshka. You'll have your room, with your nest."

"Are you going to a hotel instead?" Yuuri asks, still sad.

"I can't. It's not safe. I..." he closes his eyes. "I don't think there is a safe option left."

"It's safe with you."

Evidently not, but this isn't the time to argue. He has to do his best to make it safe. He has to think of _something._

Viktor's thumb rubs circles into Yuuri's back, hoping to soothe some of the pain he'd caused. Yuuri slowly relaxes into him, calm and trusting. The anxiety in his scent dissipates, and only now Viktor realizes it was so constant in the last few days that he stopped noticing it. His poor Yuuri, not able to control the way his scent reflects his feelings, the way his body yells his anxiety into the air only to have it be ignored.

"Dad? Can I have a kiss?"

If he gives him a kiss, Yuuri will ask for more. Viktor knows that. But he's tired. He's been forcing Yuuri to feel unwanted for days, a deep rejection that affected his nesting instincts. Yes or no, at this point there is no choice that won't cause harm.

But one is easier to pick.

He tips Yuuri's face gently up and kisses him. Yuuri starts purring quietly, so soft Viktor only feels it because he's holding Yuuri to his chest. For something so simple as a kiss after everything they'd done, it's not a display of pleasure. It's a plea for closeness. Begging without words, _don't reject me again._

Yuuri pushes himself into the kiss desperately, wrapping his arms around Viktor's body like he's still afraid to be pushed away. Viktor cups his head, running his fingers through Yuuri's hair and massaging his scalp, hoping to calm and reassure him that he doesn't need to cling. Yuuri's purr deepens, and so does the arousal in his scent. He makes a little high-pitched noise into Viktor's mouth, quiet and needy.

Pressed against Viktor the way he is, Yuuri can't miss the way Viktor's cock hardens in response. When he starts subtly rubbing on Viktor's erection, Viktor gasps and breaks the kiss, pushing Yuuri's hips a little further, and tries to breathe through a wave of nausea.

Yuuri whines, arms tightening around Viktor's body, "Dad, no—"

Viktor shushes him gently, resting his forehead on Yuuri's to promise he isn't pulling away. He isn't going to stop, not now, but he can't have that kind of contact for himself. Instead, he cups Yuuri through his underwear, feeling the slick soaking them before slipping his hand in.

Viktor closes his eyes. Slick folds part around his fingers and he pushes two inside. Yuuri gasps, throwing his head back when Viktor pulls them out again and starts massaging circles around Yuuri's clit.

Yuuri's hips move erratically, but it's clear he's trying to draw Viktor's fingers back inside. Viktor obliges, letting Yuuri ride his hand and doing his best to help with the angle and pull lovely shivers from him.

Sight is easy to avoid, but it only means he's surrounded by the sounds and the smells. He wants to go numb, to lose his ability to feel Yuuri in all the ways that aren't meant for him. There should be consequences, he should be losing everything, but instead he's gifted with Yuuri's warm gasps fanning across his skin, Yuuri's voice in his ears, Yuuri's fingers digging into the muscles of his back.

He presses just right, making Yuuri moan loudly. He keeps it up, noises of pleasure falling freely from Yuuri's lips, until he comes and collapses into Viktor's chest, shivering.

Viktor draws his hand out and hugs Yuuri until his grip on Viktor's shirt loosens. Yuuri's scent doesn't change after an orgasm like Viktor's does. Yuuri is an omega and his body keeps demanding _more,_ especially so close to heat. He smells so good now. What will his heat be like?

Viktor leans his head back and rides it out. It mellows soon, with Yuuri relaxing into the satisfaction of afterglow.

The first words from Yuuri's mouth surprise him.

"What do you do when you're not looking at me?"

Viktor frowns. "What do you mean?"

Yuuri nuzzles into his neck. "You never look at me when you touch me."

"I looked last time."

"Last time doesn't count. It made you cry."

Viktor strokes Yuuri's cheek. Even here, now, his Yuuri is so sweet. "Yuura, what do you think I'm doing?"

"I don't know," Yuuri says, sounding unsure again. "But you close your eyes, almost always. Wh— What are you thinking about?"

Viktor pulls back to look at him. "Do you think I'm trying to pretend you're someone else?"

When Yuuri takes time to respond, Viktor knows he's right. Something about this makes him uneasy.

"You'd prefer it if it were," Yuuri accuses eventually. "I thought... I thought you were probably trying to imagine it was mom with you."

The words stab deep. They highlight the contrast between Viktor's feelings for the two. Nothing for one; a twisted, impossibly powerful pull for the other.

"I miss her," he says carefully, "but... No. I wasn't doing that."

Yuuri meets his eyes. "Then can you look at me? Next time?"

Viktor hates the words _next time._ He hates admitting that this is inevitable. It will happen again. One by one, every wall he tries to build crumbles into dust with a touch. All it seems to take is a request.

"I want you to look at me."

"I'll try, Myshka."

Yuuri nods, content, and rests his head back on Viktor's shoulder.

There are still preparations to make for Yuuri's heat. Anticipation mingles strangely with Viktor's desire to run. He needs ways for Yuuri to be satisfied, ways that will keep him at a certain distance.

"It's strange that your toys haven't arrived yet," Viktor says.

"Oh. Um..."

Viktor looks and finds him looking embarrassed. "Yes?"

"I didn't order them."

"Why not?"

"I picked some toys but I didn't check out."

"Hmm. Let's do it together now."

Yuuri nods.

Viktor takes his phone and logs into the site. It's one he trusts, with nice variety and quality. The cart is saved there and Viktor goes to check out. The number of items seems reasonable, but when he sees the price, he stops.

"You did go overboard, Myshka. That's expensive."

"... I was angry with you."

Viktor laughs. "This is revenge, then?"

Yuuri bites his lip and shrugs.

"Why didn't you check out with them? You didn't want to go through with it?"

"It was... lonely."

"Buying toys?"

"For a hotel stay."

Viktor's smile dims. He looks down at his phone. He probably deserves Yuuri's little revenge. That and worse.

He proceeds to complete the purchase, picking the expensive delivery to his door for speed.

"Dad?" Yuuri frowns at his phone. "What— You're buying them?"

"We can take it. It's not like you chose useless things as a joke."

"No, I picked things I liked."

"Then it's fine."

Yuuri settles back down. Soon they'll have to get clean and cook dinner, but for now, Yuuri wants to be held before he retreats to his nest.

Viktor knows Yuuri will want them to share his heat. Months ago, the shock of his first heat overwhelmed Yuuri so much that he couldn't express much verbally. But looking back, he was clearly trying to pull Viktor into his nest every time Viktor had to check on him and let him eat and drink. Viktor remembers the struggle, the emotions, the way desire stunned him the first time he smelled Yuuri's heat scent. It will be more potent now, as Yuuri's body grows and matures, but even back then the only thing to hold Viktor back was his fear of hurting his son and losing him.

That fear doesn't exist anymore. Yuuri wants him. Either choice would hurt him, and knowledge of what's right isn't likely to help against Yuuri's pleas. It didn't help just now.

There's nothing to keep Viktor in check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, more preheat. After that, heat.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft preparations before the heat

Yuuri's new box of toys arrives four days later, when Yuuri could go into heat at any moment. With food and bottles of water enriched specifically for heats and ruts, this is the last necessary item to arrive. Viktor sets it on a kitchen table.

"Do you want to unpack it and put everything in place? You should probably clean them all now."

Yuuri just leans into Viktor's arm. He looks exhausted and Viktor knows he's annoyed. He wants to spend as much time as possible in his nest, but he doesn't want to be away from Viktor. He's being forced to choose.

"You don't want _me_ to open it, do you?"

Yuuri shrugs and, well, he _did_ get lacy underwear especially to tempt Viktor with. He's currently wearing nothing but said lacy underwear, complaining that clothes are uncomfortable and forcing Viktor to wear soft stretchy fabrics to make clinging to him easier. Viktor believes him, it's normal for clothing to feel confining near heat, but that doesn't explain the choice of lace, does it? Unboxing a few toys probably isn't very embarrassing for him.

Viktor laughs a little at Yuuri's pout and takes a knife to cut the tape and open the box. In it there are smaller separate boxes for each toy, and several little bags, looking a bit like pink pencil cases. Viktor picks one up.

"You got these for the toys?"

"It was a suggested item. The summary said the toys will get ruined if I put them together. I bought too many. For the cost."

Viktor smiles and kisses his forehead. "It's good to have. Come on, I'll show you how to clean them."

He takes them one by one, trying not to show how he's affected by handling the toys Yuuri will use. Vibrators of different kinds, dildos with and without a knot, and... Viktor touches glass.

"Yuura, what is this?"

Viktor holds up a beautiful glass toy shaped like a curled tentacle. Yuuri squeaks and turns bright red.

"That's—! I forgot, oh no," Yuuri stammers, "I— I don't want to use it, I don't, it was just pretty and expensive and—"

He blushes deeper when Viktor laughs, fully and loudly. "You got _this_ to get back at me?"

"Dad!"

"I'm sorry, Myshka, it's just... very like you."

"Buying something expensive I don't want to use?"

"Buying something expensive and pretty _to be petty._ We should find a way to display it."

"In the house?" Yuuri says, high pitched. "But, guests—"

Still laughing, Viktor hugs Yuuri tight, ruffling his hair. He's _adorable._

"Dad," Yuuri complains, but hugs him back, tucking his face in Viktor's chest.

The contrast between the normalcy of this moment and the fact they were handling _Yuuri's sex toys_ dawns on Viktor only later, after the toys are put away and they're eating. It was the first time today Yuuri sounded so much like himself, when this shouldn't be _casual fun_ for them.

And with that, his appetite is gone. When did it become normal for him to touch the skin of Yuuri's torso? To talk to him about sex, when they both know he wants to try those toys with Viktor, even if it's unsaid? He doesn't want this to be normal for him.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?" he looks over and sees Yuuri's worried eyes. "I'm fine, Yuura. Eat up."

"You too."

"I'm not very hungry. You should be gathering strength for your heat."

"You too," Yuuri repeats insistently.

"I'm not the one going into heat."

"Still."

Viktor's lips press into a firm line. Yuuri lowers his head, shoulders tightening, but holds Viktor's gaze.

"You're assuming a lot."

That makes Yuuri look away, eyes drifting to his plate, apparently conceding the point. Until he says, "You feed me."

"What?" Viktor blinks as Yuuri pushes his plate towards him. "Yuura, you're acting like a child."

Yuuri shifts his chair closer and leans on Viktor's arm, looking at him with round, brown eyes. Such beautiful eyes.

"You want me to eat, so you should do it."

"You're smart enough to listen to reason. You know you should eat."

"I don't want to."

"Yuura," Viktor sighs, exasperated, "what are you trying to do?"

"Feed me or I won't eat."

Irritated, Viktor considers telling him that if he wants to be stubborn, he doesn't have to. He considers getting up and leaving for his room. But while Yuuri's words are flippant, his eyes tell a different story.

Viktor knows how quick to anger he is around ruts. Never violent, but there's always more to hold in. He remembers how sensitive his wife was around her heats. She was an adult, accustomed like him to managing the bouts of irrational emotion, but Yuuri is not. He has the sensitivity without the ability to manage it. And he already went through so much over the last few days. He's still hurting and it's Viktor's fault.

"Fine," Viktor says and picks up Yuuri's fork.

Somewhere along the way, Yuuri finds his way into Viktor's lap, taking bites of food and eating them slowly. He looks very pleased with himself and Viktor doesn't protest. It means he has Yuuri's scent closer, it's a distraction from the his unpleasant thoughts, and... he has no right, but he's so tired of feeling bad. He should be letting the thoughts carry him, try to carve a way for himself out of this mess, but he can't bring himself to welcome more pain.

He's pathetic. A weak-willed pathetic monster.

He breathes in more of Yuuri's scent. There's a faint smell of slick, too. Sitting in Viktor's lap so close to his heat, that's unsurprising. Just like the semi-erection Viktor has been sporting all day.

"When we're done, you should go rest in your nest," Viktor says. "Your body is trying to gather strength and you're not letting it."

"It's not rest if you're far away."

Viktor almost starts arguing the definition of 'far away' but that's pointless. He just gives Yuuri another bite to eat, feeding him until the plate is clean.

"There," he says, placing the fork on it. "Now rest."

Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor's neck. "Carry me."

Viktor raises an eyebrow. "Spoiled."

"Your fault."

Viktor picks him up as he stands. "I'm just taking you there."

Yuuri doesn't bother arguing. He just leans his head on Viktor's shoulder until he's placed in his nest. One of his hands grips Viktor's shirt and he refuses to let go, looking both nervous and stubborn when he meets Viktor's eyes.

"Come in?"

"I shouldn't."

"I want you to."

"It's not safe."

Yuuri's grip on his shirt tightens. "Stop saying that."

"I can't. You know it's not right."

"Stop saying _that,_ too!"

"Yuura—"

"Stop trying to protect me from you! Just stop! I hate this. Every time you do something that makes me happy, I have to worry that it makes you sad!"

Viktor freezes.

Yuuri looks at him with wide, imploring eyes. "Dad, hug me. Please?"

Seeing the fear of rejection in his eyes, Viktor says, "Okay."

He settles into Yuuri's nest, sitting against the headboard, near the pillow Yuuri chooses to rest his head on, and stroking Yuuri's hair. Yuuri closes his eyes, finally relaxing, and curls up on his side, facing Viktor.

"Dad? Can I... Um..."

"What is it, Yuura?"

He rests a hand on Viktor's knee. "Can I make you feel good this time?"

Viktor finches when his mind forcefully conjures the image of Yuuri's hand or his mouth on his cock. So beautiful and so wrong. He wants it so much it makes his skin crawl. His eyes slam shut, trying to banish the thought, but it only becomes sharper.

"No."

"But—"

"You know how I feel about being here. If you ask again, I'll leave the room."

"But why?" Yuuri argues. "You never even let me see you!"

_"I said no."_

It comes out harsher than intended and Yuuri's eyes fill with tears. Viktor swallows down an exasperated groan. It's more the tone than the rejection, he imagines. Viktor never raises his voice.

"Yuura," he says, trying to soothe with his voice and his scent, "why is that important?"

"I want your scent here," Yuuri admits quietly.

Viktor rubs his temple. "You have it. I see plenty of my laundry here. And the pillows you asked me to scent for you."

"Happy scent. You scented things, but they're not happy."

"Oh, Myshka." Viktor melts, running a knuckle gently over the side of Yuuri's face. What a reason to ask for sex. "Touching me like that won't give you my happy scent."

Choosing to take a risk, he lies down in front of Yuuri.

"Let's talk about something fun instead."

Yuuri considers that and nods. "Dancing?"

"Perfect," Viktor smiles. "That is fun. You're so talented. I'm very happy you chose ballet as your main focus. It suits you."

Yuuri smiles, responding to Viktor's words. "I want to dance for you after. Will you watch me?"

He's been avoiding it lately, not wanting to see Yuuri moving in clothes that cling to his body. He knows Yuuri misses showing off for him.

"I promise. I love seeing you dance."

"And dancing together? Ballroom, like before. When you taught me."

Viktor rests a hand on Yuuri's cheek. "It's been a while, hasn't it? We should do it again."

They talk like that, quiet and warm. Memories and plans, simple joys that were almost forgotten in the storm of events and emotions they've lived through lately. Despite Viktor's attempts to keep his words appropriate, both happiness and arousal deepen in Yuuri's scent, and Viktor's body responds with the same. He doesn't try to control or keep it in. Yuuri breathes deeply.

"Happy scent?"

"Happy scent," Yuuri smiles, satisfied. "Can we go skating?"

Viktor returns his smile, thankful that Yuuri isn't trying to act on the mutual arousal. "As soon as we can, I'll take you. You look free and calm when you skate. I'm very happy you love it."

Yuuri's smile dims and the curl of his body tightens with a wince. "I hate pre-heat."

"Cramps again?" Viktor asks sympathetically.

"Mhm. It feels like they always hurt more when I'm lying down."

Viktor leans in and kisses his forehead. "I'll get your hot water bottle."

Yuuri hesitates for a moment, resistant to the idea of Viktor leaving his nest, then nods.

It's a short trip to the kitchen and back before he hands it to Yuuri.

"Where does it hurt, exactly?"

Yuuri frowns at him, hand going to rest under his stomach. "You know where."

"Sometimes when your mother was in pain, it reached her lower back too. Do you feel that?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"I want to try something, then. Will you lie on your stomach for me? You can have the hot bottle under you, if that helps."

Yuuri does, rolling onto his stomach and placing it under him. He shivers a little when Viktor straddles his thighs. Viktor wants to cry, seeing that response.

He picks two spots on Yuuri's lower back and presses firmly with his knuckles.

"Does that help?"

"Mm. Can you...?" he reaches back and nudges one of Viktor's hands up.

Viktor adjusts his hand.

"No, both."

Viktor adjusts the other to match. Yuuri sighs and starts relaxing.

Not wanting the pressure to turn into its own pain, Viktor occasionally moves to massage Yuuri's lower back or rub up and down the entire length with open palms. Yuuri seems to enjoy the treatment. A gentle purr starts soon.

"Dad, were mom's nests nice?"

"They were. Why?"

"Mine keeps coming apart."

"It takes practice," Viktor says. "This is only your second nest."

Yuuri doesn't respond, but Viktor doesn't think he found that reassuring.

"Myshka. Yours is soft and warm and smells the way you meant it to, right?"

"Mhm. Now that I have your happy scent."

Viktor bends to kiss his temple. "It's lovely. I promise."

Yuuri smiles and closes his eyes. Viktor keeps up playing between caresses and applied pressure until he hears the steady breaths of Yuuri's sleep.

Viktor doesn't like the way Yuuri seems to compare himself to his mother. Her memory shouldn't be something to compete with, it should be something to cherish. Is it better to leave the questions unanswered, or will that path make Yuuri's worries worse?

If she could see them now, she'd hate Viktor. She'd take Yuuri away, and she'd be right to do it.

He wonders if Yuuri will ever realize how awful it is of Viktor to touch him the way he does. If he'll open his eyes one day and be horrified by how far Viktor let it come. If he'll choose to leave on his own. Is Viktor sacrificing their future as a family by choosing to have this? It'd be a fitting outcome.

Yuuri asked him to call what they have a relationship, as if it's romantic. They'd have to twist the term to make it fit.

Knowing that it will cause Yuuri distress if he wakes up alone in his nest, Viktor goes to lie down at the edge of the bed, near the wall. Yuuri is spread on most of the bed, but he's slender enough that Viktor can reasonably fit on his side. The night's sleep won't be comfortable and he's sure to wake up with several aches, but that kind of mild physical pain isn't much of a worry. Not compared to the dread of Yuuri's heat, just around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon soon soon soon soon!!!! >:3c  
> Gonna BREAK HIM!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heat!!!!!!!!! At least, the first chapter of it. I want to break Viktor slowly and have the maximum fun doing it.

Viktor blinks his eyes open. Soft morning light filters through the window's curtains. His mind is clouded, overwhelmed. Yuuri is fully in heat now, and the open window does little to help air the room from the scent of heat and slick.

And he's in Yuuri's _nest._

He jolts awake all at once.

He's been drawing closer to Yuuri while telling himself to pull away, and now Yuuri's smaller body is wrapped around him, trapping him against the wall. Keeping Yuuri from rejection isn't worth this.

He gently extracts himself from Yuuri, the distance helping clear his mind, and passes over his sleeping form to reach the edge of the nest. As soon as his foot lands on the floor, a soft hand grabs his.

"Dad...?"

Yuuri sounds groggy. His voice is so sweet, and as he wakes up, the arousal in his scent builds, calling Viktor back to him.

"Good morning, Myshka," Viktor forces out.

"Mmm." Yuuri stretches and Viktor has to look away from the way his body shifts, he has to, but he doesn't. "Need you."

"Right," Viktor says through gritted teeth, trying to find a shred of sensible thought. Anything that doesn't scream to tear his clothes to shreds, pin Yuuri down, and sink into the inviting heat of his body. He tries to pull his hand away. "Let me just—"

"No!" Yuuri calls out and grabs him with both hands. "Please, don't go, daddy!"

Viktor's blood freezes in his veins. He looks down and Yuuri's wild eyes, then melts. He lowers himself enough to kiss Yuuri's forehead and strokes his cheek.

"Here's something I haven't heard in a while," he murmurs, watching the way Yuuri nuzzles his hand. "How are you feeling, Myshka?"

"Need you."

There's a reason he's here: his boy needs to be cared for. Then with all the toys they got, there's no reason for Yuuri to need from him anything worse than he already did.

"Yuura, I need to get up, but I won't leave the room."

Reluctantly, Yuuri nods and lets his hand go.

Viktor kneels on the floor, finding one of the boxes he'd placed there. There are energy bars and drinks in it, all specialized for heats. He pulls out one of each.

"Sit up," he tells Yuuri, who does so with some difficulty, and hands the items to him.

Yuuri looks at Viktor's hands, confused. "Then you'll touch me?"

Viktor does his best to keep his smile from faltering and his scent from giving off too much of the emotional turmoil. Thankfully (and unfortunately), his desire should be strong enough to mask everything else. He sits at the edge of Yuuri's nest and Yuuri crawls to him, instantly drawn closer. Opening the little packet in his hand, Viktor offers Yuuri the bar. Rather than reaching to take it, Yuuri opens his mouth, so Viktor feeds it to him slowly until he's done.

"Good," Viktor says, and his heart almost stops when it makes Yuuri blush. "Now drink."

Viktor opens the bottle and offers it to Yuuri, who just opens his mouth again. Viktor carefully tips the water into his mouth and Yuuri seems to realize how thirsty he is, because he takes the bottle himself and drains it.

This time Viktor just nods and smiles.

"Not good?"

"Very good. I'll make you something nicer later. For now," he points to the box at the edge of the nest, "you should take one of your toys."

Yuuri's eyes go wide and hurt. "But— Want _you,_ dad. Touch me."

Viktor purses his lips. He needs to ride this out until Yuuri is exhausted enough to sleep and then he can leave the room and have a break. "I can scent you."

Yuuri grabs Viktor's hand and lies back down, pulling the wrist to his neck. He still looks upset, but the expression smooths over when Viktor starts scenting him. The scent of Viktor's arousal mingles with Yuuri's, creating a potent mix that has him suppressing a moan. He'd never smelled himself like this. Even without the addition of Yuuri's, his own arousal shouldn't be this concentrated without a rut. He has to keep himself together despite this, resist the fog of _want_ that tries to overwhelm his mind.

Yuuri shivers as Viktor's wrist travels along his body, and he reaches down and slips a hand under his underwear. The scent of slick grows even stronger in the air, reminding Viktor of the flavor. His mouth waters. Desire is thick in his blood, buzzing under his skin. Yuuri's skin is hot under his and he can't resist opening his palm to caress Yuuri as he scents him.

Yuuri closes his eyes, gasping. His scent pours out, shifting as Yuuri sinks deeper into the desperation of heat. This won't satisfy him for long. A heat requires more. Shivers wrack through him, along with whimpers as his hips twitch into his hand. Responding with sighs and breathy shudders to Viktor's touch, and with full moans to his own.

When Viktor returns to scent his neck, he whines and tries to tilt his head in a way that will lift Viktor's wrist to his face. Viktor complies and brings it to Yuuri's nose. It's fine when all he does is breathe in the scent, seeming to find comfort in it, but then he moans and kisses and licks, making Viktor jump like he was struck by lightning.

"Yuura—!"

Yuuri blinks and turns glassy eyes to him. The corner of his mouth lifts when he manages to focus. "You're looking."

"I—" Viktor stutters. He didn't realize. He didn't mean to.

Yuuri doesn't notice. "Daddy, kiss?"

Viktor gulps. Right now, nothing seems worse than refusing that beautiful little smile. He leans over and drops a gentle kiss to Yuuri's lips.

"Mmm, more," he whines. "Daddy, I need— I need—"

Viktor knows what he needs. He sees the way Yuuri's body twists in the nest. He smells the frustration starting to build. If only giving Yuuri what he wants wasn't terrible.

"Let me pick you a toy, then I'll kiss you again."

Yuuri doesn't protest when Viktor rises and reaches over him to the box that contains his new toys. He picks a vibrator with two heads, one longer and slightly curved.

Yuuri removes his own hand and looks at him expectantly, lips downturned and eyes looking dazed. He makes a needy sound.

Viktor shifts to sit near his hips and peels the underwear off him. Yuuri barely moves to help him, opening his legs as soon as they're low enough for him to do so. Viktor finds himself holding is breath whenever he can, trying to keep some semblance of clarity in his mind. It doesn't work. Having Yuuri bare like this lights his skin on fire.

He pushes the vibrator inside and Yuuri moans as it settles into place, the shorter length curling just right toward Yuuri's clit. Viktor presses to turn it on.

Yuuri gasps, his hips jumping.

To keep his promise, Viktor bends over and kisses Yuuri again. He has to keep the toy inside, and it forces him to feel as it gets covered by slick until his hand's hold on it slips. He has to flatten his palm over the base and keep it pressed as Yuuri grinds on it, trying to milk every bit of pleasure he can get from the toy.

Yuuri gasps into Viktor's kiss, his breath warm. He hugs Viktor, trying to pull him down. Viktor lies down on his side, near Yuuri, leaning into him so he feels some of Viktor's weight without holding all of it.

Yuuri breaks the kiss to pant in short, sharp breaths. Viktor kisses his forehead and Yuuri whines.

"No, look!"

Viktor does, looking at Yuuri's face. The boy can't keep his eyes open, but when they are, they're locked onto Viktor's, blinking tears away. Checking that he really is looking down at him. Watching, like Yuuri asked him to, as he unravels.

His thighs are wide apart and shaking, his whole body convulsing against Viktor's.

"Say— ah, daddy, say—"

"Yes, Yuura?"

"Love you."

Viktor hesitates. Hearing this now feels wrong. _Saying_ it now is inconceivable. Yuuri might be able to pretend that what they're doing isn't vile, and that's good, he doesn't want Yuuri to feel the way he does. But Viktor can't fool himself into accepting this.

Except he is fooling himself. That's why he's doing it. Giving himself excuse after excuse, knowing they're excuses, but finding them compelling anyway.

The excuses aren't what's compelling. It's Yuuri.

Yuuri, who's looking at him pleading eyes, struggling to keep them open against the pleasure that overwhelms his body as he rolls his hips into the toy, into Viktor's slick-covered hand.

"I love you too," Viktor says, and wishes the words didn't taste so bad.

Yuuri nods quickly, gasping. His fingers dig into Viktor's body and even through the fabric, he's sure to leave red lines marking the skin. "Love you, dad, love you, ah— 's good, feels— feels good—"

Viktor's eyes sting and he tries to blink the feeling away.

It doesn't take long before Yuuri comes, pulling himself into Viktor's chest and screaming into the crook of his shoulder. He collapses right after, leaving the air saturated with his scent.

"Daddy, more," he begs almost immediately, even though Viktor never stopped.

"Of course, Myshka."

Exhausting Yuuri like this to ride out this wave. That's his best bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri: "Daddy?"  
> Viktor: Cock Hard; Heart Soft.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't have to reread because it doesn't change anything that affects 12, but I edited chapters 10 and 11. Small things to add a bit of a punch in certain places that needed more seasoning. One thing I don't want this story to be is bland. :P
> 
> Back to breaking Viktor!

Heat makes Yuuri oversensitive, and every orgasm makes him even more so. Viktor keeps still, ignoring his aching cock, holding the toy in Yuuri's body and forcing drinking breaks on Yuuri. Until the battery of the vibrator runs out.

"No!" Yuuri cries out when the vibration weakens. He's on the verge of another orgasm and frantically tries to move his hips to feel something. "Ah, ah, daddy— Please, more, I— _More—"_

Viktor pulls it out and throws the toy to the edge of the nest. He'll clean and recharge it when Yuuri sleeps.

"Need you," Yuuri says, like he keeps saying, pleading with Viktor, causing a pulse of desire every time.

Viktor shushes him gently, fighting the urge to give him what he's begging for, and reaches for the box, pulling out another vibrator. This one is simple and elegant, only meant to be inserted, but the vibration is supposed to be strong.

Yuuri makes a loud sound of protest and pushes the box out of his nest. It falls onto the floor, the contents spilling. The toys they didn't bother to put in individual bags, to make picking them quickly easy.

"Yuura!" Viktor calls, horrified, "What was that for?"

Yuuri flinches. "Need _you,"_ he reiterates, sounding like he might cry.

Viktor purses his lips. He meant to use all of them, especially the knotting dildo when Yuuri is tired enough for it. Now he has one clean toy.

"You'll have this."

Yuuri looks away, but opens his legs to let Viktor push the new toy in. The vibration is stronger and Yuuri gasps when Viktor turns it on. His hands fist into the sheets, hips moving like they did before. Viktor returns to lie beside him.

He doesn't know how long it's been, but he saw so much of Yuuri's face twisting in pleasure. There's an ache in his chest and pain twisting his stomach. It's a kind of torture, seeing Yuuri like this, memorizing his expressions, the shapes his mouth makes as he utters sounds Viktor couldn't help but become familiar with.

He's the most beautiful thing Viktor has seen in his life, and yet every second of this taints something precious, something pure, something he started losing months ago. He wants to preserve it, whatever the innocent, unnamable thing is, but it slips through his fingers. Every time Yuuri calls him "daddy," sounding vulnerable like he did in Viktor's memories of the word, it warms his entire body and simultaneously stabs a bloody wound in his chest.

He still forces himself to look at Yuuri's face. Yuuri looks so relieved whenever he opens his eyes and meets Viktor's. If Viktor looks away and Yuuri catches him, he calls him back in a small voice, "Daddy?" quiet and needy. Like Viktor's eyes on him are as important as the need to be filled.

Sights, smells, sounds. Viktor's mind swims in them.

"Not enough," Yuuri tells him, brows twisting together. "More. Need more. Please."

Viktor tries to move his hand, angle the toy and find a way to press the clit with his hand. It doesn't work.

Yuuri throws his head from side to side, thrashing, crying, "Please, daddy, please—"

Something snaps. Viktor lets out a low, frustrated growl and moves between Yuuri's legs. He has to swallow as soon as he's faced with Yuuri's cunt, stuffed full with the toy he's keeping inside, pulsing around it, muscles trying to push it out. He doesn't let himself admire it for long, just lowers himself and licks once before closing his mouth around Yuuri's clit and sucking.

Yuuri's scream sounds like it's punched out of him.

Viktor's mind goes blank with the flavor, the textures of Yuuri's skin under his tongue. He wants to pull the toy out and bury his tongue in its place, but instead he angles it down, making Yuuri jolt and scream when the toy presses up hard inside him, and slides his tongue above it. The vibration is unpleasant on the underside of his tongue, but it's worth it for the concentrated flavor.

"More," comes another plea, and Viktor returns his attention to Yuuri's clit. He licks where Yuuri is stretched around the toy, lapping up the slick that gushes out, sucking on the labia and the clit and everywhere he can reach, licking firmly on his clit.

Yuuri shakes and pants and wails, his body jerking and quivering. The words that leave his mouth turn from pleading to words of thanks, to incoherent jumbles, and then to no words at all, just desperate sounds that leave his throat raw.

Viktor forces orgasm after orgasm out of him, his mouth never leaving Yuuri's skin. He plays with the angle of the vibrator, pushing in and out to fuck Yuuri with it. It's all he can do to keep himself from replacing the toy with his cock.

Eventually, all that's left are little quivers of oversensitivity, little gasps that barely count as sounds.

 _Just a bit more,_ Viktor tells himself. Yuuri is exhausted. He'll fall asleep, and Viktor will be able to get out of the room, breathe fresh air, and face everything that happened.

Yuuri's voice shatters that delusion with a quiet, raspy word: "Knot?"

Viktor gasps, raising his head. He can't. The toys are on the floor. They're not safe to use. _He can't._

"Please, daddy."

Yuuri's voice is so weak. He sounds like he's crying. Viktor clutches at his chest, fingers digging in, doing nothing to dull the pain. He feels like he's going to throw up.

"Need it."

Viktor's eyes screw shut. He pulls the toy out of Yuuri's body and climbs up to lie over Yuuri. Every cell in his body screams in horror at what he's about to do. At the fact that he wants it. Craves it.

"Daddy?"

He looks at Yuuri and finds him blinking up at him, brown eyes barely forced open and brimming with tears. It could be that he's overwhelmed by everything Viktor did to him so far. It could be that he didn't have true relief, being denied what he needs, and the tears are of desperation.

Viktor can't breathe.

He slides one arm under Yuuri's shoulders, wrapping it around him, feeling a little shock at the reminder of how small he is. Hoping to drown the guilt in Yuuri's concentrated scent, he presses his nose to the gland of Yuuri's neck. It fills Viktor's lungs, thick and heavy, and makes his blood burn.

"Forgive me," Viktor doesn't say, because he doesn't deserve it.

He pushes down his pants and his underwear, positions his cock, and pushes in.

A moan tears itself from deep in his chest. The wet warmth is heaven around his cock, and Yuuri's extended sigh as he throws his head back is pure relief. His limbs wrap around Viktor, weak after Viktor's work exhausting him. His legs fall back to the sides as soon as Viktor starts fucking in, and Yuuri's arms circle Viktor's neck, resting there.

Little moans escape Yuuri with every thrust, rising and rising until his voice gives out and all that's left are near-inaudible exhales.

Viktor's fingers rest near Yuuri's head, close to his soft dark hair. He wants to grab it and pull his head aside to lick and suck along the line of Yuuri's throat. He knows how that would end. His fingers fist into the sheets lining the nest and he grits his teeth, keeping his jaw painfully tightened.

The first orgasm Yuuri has on his cock comes with a choked moan and a spasm of Yuuri's walls around his cock. Viktor fucks him through it.

"Knot?" Yuuri asks again in a quiet breath.

Viktor can't reply. He just lifts one of Yuuri's legs for a better angle and speeds up.

His eyes sting with tears and his body is hot with shame and disgust. Yuuri feels so good around him, his body is so inviting, and it feels so right that Viktor can't imagine living without knowing this feeling. He can still taste Yuuri's slick on his tongue. So perfect, like a drug made just for him.

He noses at Yuuri's gland, encouraging more of his pheromones to be released and causing another orgasm. He feels Yuuri's cunt gushing slick with every one, making the glide of his cock smoother and easier, feeling even _better._ It should be impossible to improve on perfection, but that's what Yuuri does.

He feels his own orgasm build, grunting and fucking forcefully into Yuuri. Yuuri sounds lost in bliss, and he must notice Viktor's quickening breath or feel the way his cock starts to swell because he whispers, "Yes, daddy— ah, daddy, please, _please—"_

Viktor comes with a moan, pushing his knot into Yuuri and shooting strings of cum into him. Yuuri doesn't scream, but the choked-out gasp is enough. He goes limp immediately, a loud purr building.

Viktor turns them so he's lying on his back and Yuuri on top of him and pulls a blanket over them both. It's too warm for him, with Yuuri's overheated body against him, but for Yuuri the air will be cool. His eyes are closed and he finally smells content and satisfied. His breathing soon slows as he falls asleep.

Viktor feels like it should be an accomplishment, it's what he was trying to achieve, but it means nothing now.

He feels dirtier than ever, with Yuuri's cunt hot and wet and tight around him, pulsing in a way that sends jolts of pleasure through Viktor's body as his cock spills a little more into Yuuri. It shouldn't matter; sex is sex, and they've been having it for a while. But somehow, this feels like a bigger betrayal.

When the tears come, he can't stop them. They flow freely, leaking down the sides of his face. He throws an arm over his eyes, but a sob wracks through him and he lowers it to his mouth and bites hard to muffle the sounds of his weeping.

He prays that Yuuri will be too lost to his heat to notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refuse to worry about pregnancy, so Viktor got a vasectomy after Yuuri was born. He only wants one son. Yuuri likes that, he doesn't want to share.
> 
> How do you like my sad Viktor? I think he's delicious. And of course, I'm not quite done. :3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit, I kept overthinking this one and trying to edit for quality. Then I remembered: this fic isn't about quality! It's about throwing paint on a canvas and seeing what comes out! So have another unedited chapter, like all the rest.
> 
> Now, I've been wondering: should I give you some Yuuri POV in the notes? Just tell you where he's coming from, what his thoughts were, share his more painful moments for the chapter? I'll do it for this chapter and we'll see how you like it!

Viktor's head is pounding when he wakes up to Yuuri kissing his chin and jaw. His knot has deflated in their sleep and his cock slipped out of Yuuri, so now the boy is grinding on it, gasping and trying to draw it into him. His second wave is starting, if his scent is any indication, but he isn't in too deep yet. It should be possible to get him to eat and drink, if nothing else.

Viktor kisses his forehead and pushes him away a little so he can sit, pulling the fabric of his pants and covering his cock again as he does. Yuuri scoots back in Viktor's lap, but he looks insecure.

Viktor smiles to reassure him. "Let's drink first."

He reaches and takes a bottle for each of them. He'd let Yuuri go without drinking for too long, and after crying so much he feels dehydrated himself. He looks at the window and realizes it's only late afternoon, still the same day Yuuri's heat started. Viktor shouldn't have been tired enough to sleep, but crying exhausted him.

Yuuri looks between his own unopened bottle and Viktor's face, frowning. Viktor's eyes still feel sore. He takes the bottle from Yuuri's hands and opens it, handing it back with a nod, encouraging him to drink. Yuuri doesn't seem to find his attempts at reassurance very effective, not even when he tries to release calming pheromones into the air, but he does empty the bottle slowly.

"Good," Viktor says and reaches for a couple of energy bars. "Now this."

Yuuri eats with Viktor, bite for bite, looking impatient, like he's hoping Viktor will put the food away and let him discard his too. Both his scent and the little twitches of his body tell Viktor there's no time to go clean the toys they left on the floor.

As soon as the food is finished, Yuuri climbs back up, leaning into Viktor's chest and grinding on his clothed cock.

"Yuura—"

"Feels empty, daddy."

Viktor suppresses a moan. There's no way Yuuri will let him leave the nest to clean anything.

Viktor shouldn't have fallen asleep. At this rate, he'll have to spend the entire heat like this, and it's heaven, but he can't, he  _ can't. _ He needs to be better than this. He needs to tire Yuuri out, or get him through his wave, and then go get the toys ready for the next one.

Gritting his teeth, Viktor pulls his cock out again. Yuuri moans as he slowly lowers himself onto it, surrounding Viktor with delicious heat and wrapping his arms around Viktor's neck. He tucks his face in Viktor's chest, hips rising and falling. Viktor wraps both arms around him to hold him close.

"Love you," Yuuri says so Viktor kisses the top of his head. Yuuri whines, shaking his head against Viktor's chest. "Daddy, please?"

He does love Yuuri, loves him so much, but clearly not enough to deny himself these disgusting pleasures. He has no right to say the words, not at a time like this. He should have protected what they had, and he let it be corrupted.

"I love you too," Viktor says and it hurts just as much as it did the first time.

For Yuuri, it's enough. He moans loudly, breath warming Viktor's skin through the shirt, and moves his hips faster. His rhythm is uneven, settling into a certain pace before switching it up. There's something exploratory about this. Yuuri is unused to any of this, the ease of his pleasure coming from the oversensitivity of heat.

He seems to find an angle that feels good because he keeps his hips low and grinds down with Viktor's cock still inside him. The delicious drag against the walls of Yuuri's cunt sends shocks of electricity through Viktor's body.

It's like this that Yuuri has the first orgasm of this wave. Trembling, held in a firm embrace, sweat beading on his temples, a patch of Viktor's shirt dampened by his gasps. He tucks himself under Viktor's chin, seemingly no longer caring to seek eye contact between them.

Viktor is glad for this. The naked desire in Yuuri's eyes is difficult to face at the best of times, and right now he feels weak.

He lets Yuuri use his cock to extract orgasms out of himself, one after the other, until Yuuri is lost to oversensitivity. Viktor forces himself to keep still in hopes that Yuuri will be drained by the end of it. He's close to orgasm himself, but something in his mind resists it, refusing to let go even now, screaming  _ wrong, wrong, wrong. _

With a finger, Yuuri presses on Viktor's scent gland, encouraging a rush of pheromones. He purrs lightly and does it again, and again, stimulating the sensitive gland and dissolving any kind of rational thought from Viktor's mind. Yuuri is right here, smelling so good, and Viktor moans, thrusting up.

Yuuri gasps as Viktor's hands go to his hips, helping him move faster, deeper, harder. His knot swells and Yuuri cries out, fingers digging into Viktor's shirt. He keeps pressing on Viktor's gland, massaging it, scenting it, saying "yes" and "more" and "please." Driving Viktor mad until he rolls them over, lifting Yuuri's legs and fucking him hard, pushing in until his knot pops inside.

Yuuri comes, his body thrashing, and Viktor reaches a hand to his clit, extending Yuuri's pleasure. He rests his forehead on the mattress past Yuuri's shoulder, moving his hips to shift his knot in Yuuri's body. They both shiver with it.

Yuuri's scent is still heavy with need so Viktor keeps his fingers on his clit, running wet circles into it. Yuuri clings to him, folded in half, nosing at Viktor's gland even as he's screaming into his shoulder.

It's like he can't get enough of Viktor's scent. The thought has Viktor moaning. He continues his work on Yuuri's clit, thinking filth he'll never voice, praise that will never leave his lips.

Yuuri's writhing under him, pulsing around his cock, it's all too overwhelming. He doesn't know how long he spends like this, listening to Yuuri's babbling in his ear, letting his scent cloud his mind, pulling from him a string of orgasms and barely giving him minutes to breathe between them

The base of Viktor's thumb is sore by the time his knot deflates and Yuuri goes limp, purring loudly and finally smelling of satisfaction.

Viktor lets himself relax above Yuuri, hugging him and rolling them to the side. He'll let Yuuri recover a little, maybe even fall asleep, until his mind clears the way it does between waves. Then he'll get up to get things ready.

Yuuri nuzzles into his neck, still pressing his gland with a fascination that's starting to be odd. But Viktor obliges, releasing more of his pheromones into the air, smiling at Yuuri's little contented sigh.

Yuuri's humid breath is the only warning Viktor gets before he feels teeth on his gland.

Viktor recoils, pushing Yuuri away. Yuuri yelps, causing Viktor to ease his grip on the boy's arms but doing nothing to calm his horror.

This is beyond disrespectful. It's beyond a breach of boundaries. A bond bite is  _ irreversible. _

"What are you doing?" Viktor says quietly.

Yuuri doesn't answer. He just looks at him, eyes wide.

"You kept touching it. What were you doing?"

Yuuri bites his lip.

"Yuuri," Viktor's voice trembles with barely-contained anger, "answer me."

"When I press it," Yuuri mumbles, "it goes white. Can't see the scars."

A moment ticks by before the pieces fall into place. Viktor goes numb.

"Mom's bond mark. You were making it vanish."

Yuuri shrinks. "Just a bit?"

Viktor closes his eyes. He cups a hand over his bond bite. It's a silly reaction. Yuuri can't take away scars. But the thought of their son wanting it gone...

"You were trying to bite over it."

Yuuri winces with guilt. He doesn't deny it.

Viktor adjusts his clothes, gets up and leaves the nest.

"Dad?" Yuuri says, broken.

Viktor pauses. Then, softly, says, "I need a moment," and leaves.

Outside, it's nighttime. Their house has some space for him to lean against the wall with no one outside to judge the way he smells of heat and sex. Here, in the fresh air, his mind clear, he can let himself break down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I promised Yuuri's POV, right? Here you go:  
> Yuuri loves his mom and misses her and wishes she was there with them. But he's also jealous of her and the place she occupied in Viktor's life.  
> Yuuri loves being Viktor's son. But he also doesn't want to be, because he knows Viktor's conflicted feelings come from that.  
> Mom's mark became a symbol of everything negative about the structure of their family. His mom's place and his in relation to Viktor.  
> He wants to overwrite it. In the fog of heat, so close to Viktor's gland, he found out he can make it disappear, but it kept coming back. His poor little muddled brain reasoned, if I can't make it go away, maybe I should make it mine?  
> And that was a step too far.
> 
> Now, some people asked me why Viktor gave in so easily to Yuuri and fucked him. Soon, I'll answer that. You'll see what happens when an omega in heat feels rejected.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:
> 
> If I didn't comment to you yet, that's because there's something important in your comment that I need to savor for a bit. I'm not ignoring you.
> 
> I know it was a short break, but I'm feeling a bit better. Thank you to everyone who was concerned about me. Don't worry, though, I don't think this fic can be ruined for me. I'm quite stubborn ;)
> 
> Enjoy, unedited as usual

Yuuri wants to erase his scars. Or he wants to replace them. Either way, it's an insult to the person who gave him life, and it makes no sense. Yuuri loved her, missed her. After she died, Yuuri cried in his arms, screaming and begging him to get her back. He was small back then, but he couldn't have forgotten everything... could he?

What should Viktor do?

Viktor's painfully aware of the state in which he left Yuuri. Alone in his nest, after a rejected bond bite. As wrong as it was of him to try it, the rejection can't be good for him right now. Viktor forces himself to relax before the tears dry on their own.

He rises from the ground and with a few calming breaths, steps back into their house.

The sour scent of abandoned omega fills the apartment. Viktor's heart drops. The closer he goes to Yuuri, the stronger it gets. He feels like he's wading through a cloud of pain until he reaches the weeping curled up bundle in the nest. He isn't sure Yuuri can hear or smell him through this.

Carefully, Viktor sits on the bed. "Yuura," he says gently and rests a hand on Yuuri's back.

Yuuri just curls tighter. "I'm sorry," he sobs. "Don't hate me."

"Oh, Yuura. I couldn't hate you."

"I'm sorry," he hiccups, not relaxing one bit.

It's not a good time to ask, but Viktor has to. "Why did you do it?"

"Want you." The words are barely heard among the sounds of his crying.

 _What have I done to you?_ "You have me. In every way you should and several you shouldn't."

"But you aren't mine," he bursts out. "It's not fair!"

Viktor rubs a hand along his back, thinking of something suitable to say. Yuuri's hurt in the air isn't easy to bear, but it doesn't cloud Viktor's mind the way arousal does, even with his heat scent.

"Mom loved that we were a family of dancers," he says, starting slowly to let Yuuri relax and listen. "When we first took you to a real class, she was very excited. She kept talking to me about the balance between encouraging your dancing, and not pressuring you. She was terrified of losing your love for it because of us." He strokes Yuuri's hair, watching as the tight coil of Yuuri's body eases into something softer. "She didn't care what you picked, as long as you still loved dancing. She hoped you'd be a better dancer than her. And me."

Yuuri looks at him, eyes wide with shame. His tears still flow and his breathing is still uneven, but it's a quieter pain. Viktor wipes the tears and pulls Yuuri to him, letting him lean on Viktor's shoulder and soak his shirt.

She's not something to erase. There is no competition. Yuuri is here and she's gone. Yuuri is the only thing he has left, and she was Viktor's partner in creating this little family that he doesn't know how to protect. In the end, Yuuri is the most important thing in his life.

When Yuuri is done, he doesn't look like he usually does after crying. There's no relief, and the rejection doesn't dissipate from his scent. Viktor gives him a drink and gets a towel to clean his face.

"You're still angry," Yuuri says.

"I'm still upset, but not angry."

"You're upset with me."

Viktor looks at him when he speaks. "What you almost did was serious and irreversible. I'm trying to think what to do now. Especially when your next wave is soon."

"Don't leave me again," Yuuri says quietly.

Viktor looks at the pleading brown eyes and hands Yuuri a bar. "Eat. I need to think."

Yuuri doesn't unwrap it. He just sits there, deflated. It's painful to watch.

Viktor leaves the nest to collect the toys. "I'm not leaving the house this time, just going to clean these. 

"I don't want the toys. They don't feel as good."

"You don't have a choice."

"You already did it. It didn't hurt me."

Viktor doesn't say anything to contradict him, because he doesn't know what to say to something so twisted. Yuuri reads his response in his silence.

"I'm not," he insists, with no heat behind it. "You can't decide I am."

"Fine, you're not," Viktor says. "But it doesn't stop being bad after I do it once."

"Stop saying that."

"No. It's bad."

"I hate the toys."

Viktor's jaw tightens. "Using the toys with you is sex, too. It's wrong, too. It's bad enough."

Yuuri looks like every word is a physical hit.

"I'm washing them. We're using them." Feeling like he just hit somewhere tender, Viktor softens. "I'll make you something nice, too."

Yuuri nods, sniffing, still looking like he feels abandoned. Viktor kisses his forehead and leaves. He gets the toys clean and puts them in their individual bags to keep them clean in the case of another impulsive moment from Yuuri. He's so young, so unused to the way hormones and instincts push his emotions around.

Viktor shouldn't be fighting with a fifteen years old in heat. He shouldn't be doing many things with a fifteen year old in heat, and this isn't nearly as bad as the rest of them, but... this is irritation and frustration. He shouldn't take them out on Yuuri.

He makes a smoothie, a tasty recipe that his wife liked for heats. It's supposed to be good for them, rich with vitamins and protein.

He comes back and sees that Yuuri barely touched the bar. He offers him the smoothie and Yuuri does taste it, but Viktor has to stroke his back and prompt him to drink. He doesn't seem inclined to finish it. 

"Do you not like it?"

Yuuri shakes his head. "It's good."

His voice is lifeless. It tears Viktor's heart apart. He takes the smoothie away and puts it near the nest. The one task Viktor thought he'd be able to fulfill for Yuuri was getting food and drink into him, and he's failing.

He opens his arms. "Come here."

Yuuri looks at him and Viktor thinks he sees a flash of something like betrayal. For a moment, he thinks Yuuri will turn his back on him. But Yuuri crawls into his arms, letting Viktor lay them down on the bed.

"Go away," he says, as his hands clutch the fabric of Viktor's shirt and his leg wraps around Viktor's hip. "You hate it. Go away."

"You don't want me to leave."

"Go away."

"I need to take care of you. And I want to." He just wishes he could do it right.

Yuuri's shoulders tremble. He shakes his head, pulling himself into Viktor as another round of sobs starts. This time, at least, Viktor can hold him through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will have a lot of Yuuri suffering. That's harder to write, somehow.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS!!!**
> 
> Emetophobia warning: There's vomiting in this chapter.  
> Consent is also weird in this chapter for Yuuri. The suffering during sex doesn't read like I usually write it, I think. I'll explain more in the end notes.
> 
> As usual, unedited. This chapter was really difficult to write. It really hurt me. But I think I needed it.
> 
> **It's HEAVY.**

When the next wave hits, neither is ready. Yuuri's tears haven't dried. He's had no rest. The air changes as he slides into the next wave, but the desire clear in his scent doesn't show on his face. Outwardly, he shows discomfort. It looks like he's wincing with cramps, not like he's anticipating pleasure.

Viktor aches to see it. Desire and rejection are an unpleasant mix to smell. 

Viktor barely manages to let him eat some food between hiccuping sobs. He murmurs "Good, Yuura," when the last bite is swallowed, but this time Yuuri doesn't blush. He doesn't even stop crying. He just clings to Viktor again, his fist tightening in Viktor's shirt.

"It hurts."

Still refusing what Yuuri really wants, Viktor asks, "What should we use, Myshka? Pick a toy."

There's a new rush of the sour scent, but Yuuri says, "The first. Just— That one."

Viktor finds it in the box. The thought of using it with Yuuri in this state is horrifying.

"Do you think you can use it yourself if I'm here to hold you?"

Before he even finishes the sentence, Yuuri's eyes are wide with betrayal. "Daddy, no! You said you'll help me, you promised, you—" he cuts himself off, coughing up a sob, collapsing in on himself and crying so hard his body is shaking with it.

It's rejection after rejection, Viktor realizes, rushing to apologize, to hug him, to promise, "It's okay, I'll do it, it's fine."

The crying slows and it's like it left something broken. "Please, daddy, make it stop hurting."

Viktor does his best to pleasure him. It's different now. He's losing breath over sobs as he begs, pleading with Viktor, both "Don't stop, more" and "Need you, not enough." Yuuri's orgasms look like they're painfully wrenched out of him, and his frustration builds, the abandonment, loneliness that Viktor never smelled on him.

He doesn't know how to fix it. It feels awful in a way nothing he did ever had before. He's been wishing for so long to at least shut down his own ability to enjoy pleasuring Yuuri, to be numb to it. In some twisted, cruel way, he's now given what he asked for. There's no enjoyment at all in watching Yuuri's body come apart under his hand. But this is far from what he wanted.

Is this how it's going to be from now on? Finding new ways to torture them both?

Eventually, the tears run out, and there's something unsettling in Yuuri's calm. His body reacts like it usually would, his back arching, a little shudder of breath leaving him. But in his expression there's nothing more than a subtle pull of his brows together.

It's terrifying. Yuuri is never like this. It's not the relaxation of having been pleasured for a long time. It's the exhaustion of crying until you can't anymore, but worse, and Viktor is so powerless. No matter how much he tries to think, he doesn't know what to do.

Yuuri does respond to eye contact. He can't keep his eyes open for long, but when he does, he seeks Viktor's. When he sees him still steadily looking at him, something seems to come into focus in his gaze. It's not kept for long, not with his heat and the toy building up orgasm after orgasm in his little body, but he always seeks Viktor's eyes again.

Viktor can't read the look in them. It breaks his heart.

Yuuri keeps smelling of rejection no matter how much Viktor kisses him, no matter how much he forces himself to say "I love you." It feels like an accusation.

Suddenly, Yuuri jolts, eyes going wide. His limp arms push Viktor off with a sudden surge of strength and Viktor lets himself be pushed, confused, when Yuuri lurches up and vomits all over the nest.

Viktor watches, frozen with horror, as Yuuri leans on his arms over the filth, chest heaving as he retches repeatedly. His muscles clench and he hiccups, interrupted by his body's attempt to get rid of the contents of his already-empty stomach.

Viktor is only able to move again when the gagging stops and Yuuri is about to collapse into the nest. He catches him with an arm under his chest and pulls him in to hold close, cupping Yuuri's feverish face. Is it a normal temperature for heat, or is it hotter?

"Yuura?" Viktor's voice shakes.

Yuuri sniffles a little, his whimpers muffled by his dry pressed lips. His tired eyes are wet with tears that don't fall but hang on his eyelashes. He looks awful.

"Bath," Viktor says. "No, you should— you should drink something first. You've been crying and sweating, and— I—" He swears under his breath and takes another bottle from the stash they have near the nest. How can he be so bad at the one thing that kept him here?

Yuuri closes his eyes and lets Viktor hold the bottle to his mouth, tipping it slowly and carefully until it's empty.

They aren't done with this wave. But he needs to clean him of puke, and the nest is unusable, and—

One thing at a time.

Viktor cradles Yuuri in his arms and lifts him, getting from him a confused sound when he gets up.

"Nest—"

"Sorry, Myshka. Bath, first. Then we'll take care of the nest."

"But scent." His voice is hoarse. He must be feeling so sore.

"I'll scent you right after, I promise."

Yuuri leans his head on Viktor's shoulders, still tense but no longer objecting.

Viktor puts him in the bath and washes him slowly and carefully. Yuuri's eyes stay closed the entire time and occasionally he twists a little the way Viktor is used to seeing whenever there's a spike of pain. Once he's done he takes Yuuri into his lap, wrapping him in a towel and passing his wrist under it to scent him where it got washed away or where it smells too artificial.

"Nest now?"

"No, Yuura. The nest is dirty. I'll take you to my bed and try to clean it."

"Too far."

"I know, Myshka. Can you try to be strong for me?"

Yuuri hums and nods. Viktor carries him to his own bed, placing him on the clean, flat sheets.

"I'm sorry. I still ended up taking you away from your nest. After promising I wouldn't."

"I made a mess," Yuuri says apologetically.

"No, I did," Viktor corrects, stroking his cheek gently. "What do you need before I go to take care of it?"

"Soft things?"

Viktor smiles. "Of course, Myshka."

Many of their pillows and blankets didn't fit into the nest on Yuuri's small bed, so Viktor brings them now, scenting one by one before putting them near Yuuri.

"Anything else?"

"A kiss."

Viktor gives him that, bending to meet his lips with a slow press of his own.

"So brave, my Yuura. I'll be right back." He hesitates, then adds, "I love you."

This time it gets him a little smile. It doesn't look happy, but it's something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consent weirdness: Viktor denies him what he wants and Yuuri hates having to settle for the toys. His reaction is hard to watch.
> 
> More Viktor doing his best to fix the mess in the next chapter. We're past the worst of this part.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If a step in the right direction gets you punished with pain, what does a step in the wrong direction do? :P
> 
> Enjoy the comfort to last chapter's hurt!

Viktor strips item after item from the nest, but the smell of vomit clings to all of them. Yuuri's nest wasn't well built, and the mess left hardly anything clean. Before he realizes, the nest is gone.

He quickly goes to wash what he can in the bathroom before placing everything but the pillows in a washing machine.

Trying to take little steps towards better choices only ends up hurting Yuuri more. There are still almost two full days of Yuuri's heat, and no nest. After creating one out of a need for security, he won't be able to get through the rest of his heat without it.

Unless Viktor gives him a better one.

His stomach twists at the thought. Creating a nest together isn't done unless a pair is late into courting. Yuuri chose him as a heat partner, so he could do it, but it'll solidify him as Yuuri's alpha. He'll be tricking Yuuri's instincts into forgetting about the old nest, but it'll make untangling them from each other later harder.

Yuuri accused him of coming closer only to push away again, and he's right. Viktor is even doing it again, this time consciously. This see-saw can't be healthy, but he can't think of any alternatives for getting Yuuri through this.

He shouldn't have been so harsh with Yuuri when heat and hormones are amplifying his emotions, but he was. His rejection wasn't just the refusal to fuck him, but the ill-timed reminder that  _ none of this _ is okay. To fix it, he'll have to let Yuuri sink into the fantasy of the opposite. Then, later, _after,_ he'll have to ease him out of it somehow. Not with abrupt avoidance and distance like he usually does, but thoughtfully, to make sustainable.

For now, he has to push aside his own feelings and let the rest of Yuuri's heat revolve around  _ him. _

Taking the supplies and the toys, he leaves the room.

He finds Yuuri under a pile of blankets and pillows. It's not a nest, but he surrounded himself with weight and warmth and Viktor's scent. He peeks out when Viktor walks in, notices the box that holds the toys, and burrows back in.

"No."

His heart hurts, but Viktor can't help a smile. Yuuri is cute.

"Don't worry, you don't have to."

"But it still hurts."

"I know. I'll help. Without toys, if you prefer."

Yuuri rises on weak arms. "Nest?"

He can't tell Yuuri he dismantled it. "I'm sorry. We can't go back. I couldn't clean it."

Yuuri lies back down, looking small, devastated. Viktor feels awful.

"I ruined the nest," Yuuri says.

"No, Yuura. I told you, I did. Can I help fix it?"

"You said we can't go back."

Viktor closes his eyes with a deep breath. He sits in front of him, putting everything he was carrying on the floor. "Can we make a new one, together, here?"

Yuuri brightens a little. "Really?"

Viktor nods, feeling like he's deceiving him. Yuuri probably doesn't know why it eases his anxiety. He's so new to the way their secondary dynamics influence him. He just knows it feels nice and makes him less sad.

With Yuuri being so weak, Viktor does most of the work. Building the nest around him. He takes every piece for Yuuri to scent, then scents it himself before putting it into place. He keeps reminding Yuuri to drink from the bottle in his hand, because Yuuri's eyes never leave him. He looks fascinated, awed.

When it's done, Viktor comes to sit near Yuuri.

"What do you think, Myshka?"

"... Daddy's not an omega. Not fair."

"What's not fair?"

"This nest is better than mine."

"This is a nesting bed, Yuuri. It's made for it." And Viktor has the experience of years as an omega's mate.

Yuuri still seems to feel insecure, so Viktor tips his face and kisses him, hoping to soothe it away by reminding him he's wanted by the person who made this nest. Yuuri melts into him. Then he pulls on Viktor's shirt. Viktor hums questioningly.

"In the nest?"

Viktor's heart stutters in his chest, but it makes sense for Yuuri to ask. The shirt smells very strongly of him. "Okay."

He takes it off, giving it to Yuuri who puts it near his pillow. Then asks, "More scent? Happy scent?"

Viktor swallows and pushes him gently to lie on the bed. "I don't know if I can manage happy, Myshka, but let's try for more, okay?"

Viktor cages Yuuri under his body. He scents him, kissing him while he does and apologizing between kisses. For what he did, for what he's doing, for what he's planning to do. It helps calm Yuuri down. A good calm, not lethargy. It eases so many awful feelings out of his scent that Viktor feels dizzy when they're gone, being replaced with arousal, like his heat should smell.

Viktor moans when Yuuri's arousal surrounds them. He lets it build in him, too. Lets himself grow hard, until Yuuri feels it and makes a cute noise and breaks the kiss.

"Feels empty."

Viktor exhales slowly. "Can you lie on your side for me? Face to the wall?"

Yuuri turns under him and Viktor lies down behind him, hugging Yuuri to his chest. It's been so long since he felt Yuuri's skin against his, insisting on wearing shirts around him all the time. Yuuri squirms, trying to get closer, arching his body as if he's presenting and in the process rubbing his ass on Viktor's cock. Viktor groans and pulls his pants down like he did before. Just from the smell, Viktor knows Yuuri is already dripping with slick, so he doesn't tease. He just hugs Yuuri, holding his hips at a comfortable angle, and pushes in.

The angle is new for both of them, but Yuuri is the one to feel the change the most. "Oh," he moans and starts babbling instantly. "Daddy, so full. It feels— It feels— It's, ah—"

Viktor kisses Yuuri's shoulders and noses his gland like Yuuri did for him, causing a loud moan and a burst of scent that drowns him. He fucks into him, reaching down to touch Yuuri's clit and press on it with two fingers, letting his thrusts push Yuuri's hips into his hand.

Viktor closes his eyes and tries to focus on Yuuri's reactions. It could be the sensitivity after Viktor made him wait or it could be the position, but it seems easier to draw high-pitched noises from Yuuri. A slight change in angle makes him jolt and scream and come, whimpering and quivering as Viktor speeds up rather than slow down to let him recover, drawing it out and forcing another orgasm out of him.

Before his heat, Viktor never let himself bring Yuuri more than one orgasm. This is intoxicating. What will he look like, what will he sound like, if Viktor does this outside of a heat? If he insists on this kind of relentless treatment until Yuuri can't take it anymore? His voice is so beautiful. The way his body flushes and trembles is the most erotic thing Viktor has experienced. If he keeps this up, will he be able to bring himself to tell Yuuri these things?

Something in his mind warns him off this train of thought. It's dangerous. He shouldn't think of the appeal in this, not if he wants to eventually free them both and build something good and pure and healthy. But he feels like this possibility is lost to them. How can anything pure reside in the mind that remembers what it feels like to hold Yuuri to his chest, to touch his nipple and hear his whimper?

Viktor does it again, and Yuuri pushes into his hand with a scream as he comes again and then folds himself over. Viktor wraps himself around him, fucking him like that, hearing as he grows more and more overwhelmed with every orgasm that increases his sensitivity.

Wanting more is what makes Viktor horrible. It's what prevented him from stopping this before it began. It's what got Yuuri to the point where he'll get sick if Viktor denies him. He set them on this path the first night he didn't send Yuuri away.

"Knot?"

Viktor groans.

"Please, daddy?"

"Soon, Myshka," he murmurs and Yuuri moans like Viktor's  _ voice _ is enough to bring him pleasure.

Viktor banishes all thoughts from his mind. Anything but Yuuri, his scent and his voice and his body. His gland is so close, and as soon as Viktor is lost to the sensations he wants to bite into it. Instead, with the last bit of control he has, he puts his mouth to Yuuri's shoulder and sucks a mark. Yuuri moans as his body jolts and Viktor realizes he's  _ marking him. _ It's then that he comes, his knot popping on a push inside, and Yuuri screams.

They're locked together but Yuuri keeps trying to draw more and more from Viktor's body, moving around, clenching around him. Viktor moans and starts massaging circles into his clit, helping him through a few more orgasms.

Yuuri loses the ability to form words somewhere along the way and his moans taper off into something quiet and breathy. His body is demanding more, but Yuuri himself seems...

"Are you falling asleep, Yuura?"

"Mmn," is all he gets out.

Charmed, Viktor chuckles. His Yuuri is so cute. After the day's events, it's no wonder.

He lets Yuuri doze, touching him, seeing his adorable sleepy reactions until he can finally smell his satisfaction. Then he hugs him and closes his eyes, ready to doze too.

Another gift, another experience that isn't meant for him. He doesn't plan on getting more familiar with Yuuri's pleasure, but for now it can't be helped. The more he sees, the more he wants. The more he  _ wonders. _ The unanswered questions will probably torture him forever, but if they do, it's okay. He deserves worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A step in the wrong direction feels _good._
> 
> Hope you had fun!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Have smut!

When Viktor wakes up, his mind is slow and hazy, clouded with desire. He feels Yuuri against him, nose at Viktor's neck, little noises rising from him. The line of Yuuri's arm is trapped between them and the way he moves, the way Viktor's cock is getting wet trapped between Yuuri's thighs, makes it obvious that he's trying to pleasure himself. He smells of yet another wave.

"Please," Yuuri whines. "Daddy, please?"

Viktor shivers, trying to think but finding nothing but uncontrollable need filling him. He's too scared to move. He can't know what he'll do if he does. Something niggling tells him he isn't safe like this. He needs Yuuri safe. He needs to be in control.

"Myshka," he forces out, voice hoarse from sleep, "can you present for me?"

Yuuri whimpers and hurries to obey, freeing Viktor from the enticing writhing of his body. The temptation isn't gone, but it becomes more manageable.

Viktor sits up and opens his eyes, seeing Yuuri's beautiful posture. His lack of confidence is visible in the positioning of his legs, in the way he hides his face rather than look to see Viktor's reaction.

"Good," Viktor compliments, aware that he's manipulating and feeding Yuuri's instincts that read Viktor as his mate. He swallows down the nausea.

It felt so right to tell Yuuri to present for him, and seeing him like this is even worse. Almost natural. It's tempting to correct his position. Move his thighs up and apart, push his back down to enhance the curve that rises to his ass, but Viktor doesn't.

Yuuri says something, a quiet word Viktor can't hear, but it sounds like a plea.

"Right," Viktor says and starts stroking along Yuuri's folds. "We don't want to wait long enough for it to hurt this time."

Yuuri slumps, relieved, and sighs, "Yes. Please."

Yuuri's slick drips down his thighs. Even Viktor's cock is still wet from the way Yuuri tried to grind on him. He bends over to hug Yuuri and slides in easily, making Yuuri gasp.

"You really— Ah!  _ Thank you," _ Yuuri babbles, sounding excited for some reason. "Thank you, daddy, thank you, feels good, feels— I— Ah, ah—"

The talking — the unbearable  _ gratitude  _ — is cut off when Viktor rises back, grabs Yuuri's hips, and fucks him faster.

The position is good for momentum, giving his thrusts speed and strength, but they also let him see Yuuri more clearly than he ever did before. He's not close enough to focus on Yuuri's eyelashes, on the wrinkles of his nose, on little cute details that can't distract him from the beauty of Yuuri when he's overwhelmed by Viktor's touch but did allow him to pretend, to distance himself somewhat.

Now he's stuck seeing the full picture of Yuuri's writhing as he comes, throwing his hands to grab a pillow from the edge of the nest and pulling it to him. He's trying to hug it without letting his chest leave the mattress, dedicated to his position presenting for Viktor, desperate to impress him like he would a mate, and ends up with an arm wrapped awkwardly around the pillow at his side as he buries his face in it.

Viktor should tell him to stop, free him from this, but he's not in a place where he can deny the appeal. Yuuri's devotion to him is too sweet. Too charming. He licks his lips, resisting the urge to bend and bite.

He wants to hear a louder cry. The muffled moans are maddening. He doesn't ask for it, he shouldn't ask for anything that would add to his own pleasure, but he can't resist the temptation to change his angle and reach down to press his fingers to Yuuri's clit. The boy comes again with a beautiful cry that the pillow can't keep from him.

Viktor keeps a relentless pace and Yuuri's orgasms start coming faster, leaving him sensitive until he starts making overwhelmed noises with Viktor's thrusts. Viktor pushes in deep and grinds into Yuuri's body, feeling the way the walls of his cunt clench and slick keeps gushing out, as if the glide of Yuuri's body isn't already perfect, making Viktor feel like he's constantly on the edge of orgasm.

Viktor groans, letting his arm fall near Yuuri's head, leaning on it as he continues moving in him. Yuuri whimpers, letting go of his pillow and instead reaching a hand to hold on to Viktor's forearm. Looking desperate and vulnerable, his eyes clouded and glazed over, he stretches himself to bring his nose to Viktor's wrist.

Viktor obliges, bringing it to Yuuri's face. The boy inhales greedy lungfuls and moans, suddenly surging forward, starting to lick and suck Viktor's gland.

Viktor swears and collapses on top of him, shocked as he comes, his knot popping into Yuuri with the come that spills into him. Yuuri's scream reverberates through Viktor's chest.

As he recovers, Viktor keeps inside so many words he thinks might burst. Praise, soothing, encouragements. Every sweet word Yuuri deserves to hear. He tries not to even think them, worried they might escape his lips if he does. Especially the darker, more possessive words he doesn't want to acknowledge himself. The ones that show best how twisted his love for Yuuri became. They're loudest when Viktor comes in him.

He needs this heat to end.

Not wanting to get too heavy, Viktor forces his weakened limbs to roll them to the side. Yuuri tries to snuggle into Viktor, so Viktor hugs him close and warm.

"Don't fall asleep, Yuura. You need to eat when we can separate again."

Yuuri mumbles something, then says, "Okay."

Viktor kisses his cheek. "I'll have to get up and leave to do some house chores."

He feels Yuuri's body go tense.

Viktor asks, "What?"

"... I'm scared when you're not here."

"Scared of what?"

"That it won't be like  _ this _ when you come back. I don't want to lose this."

The poor boy has everything he wants and he's terrified of Viktor taking it away again. As if he didn't torture him enough for one heat.

"Yuura, I'm not going to repeat that mistake."

"And after? Will you try to push me away again, after?"

"After, I'll take you dancing and skating like I promised. Okay?"

Yuuri nods, relaxing. "Dad... Can we talk about that again? Like before? I still want happy scent."

Viktor melts, wrapping himself around Yuuri. "Of course, Yuura. What else do you want to do?"

"Eat ice cream. Chocolate ice cream."

"Oh," Viktor laughs. "We know where we go, then. A day at the beach it is."

He can see Yuuri's smile in the curve of his cheek. His heart swells with love. He doesn't know if it's the right kind, but in contrast with some of the sickening thoughts that he had to push away just moments before, it feels comforting.

"What else do you want?"

"If we go to the beach, we should do it in the evening. When it's cool."

"You don't want to swim?"

"No. I want to walk and feel the sand and the water."

"And kick water at me when I'm wearing clothes I don't want wet," Viktor smiles.

"... Not if you know I'm going to."

Viktor laughs, deep and warm and free, hugging Yuuri tighter. The boy shivers and sighs, clenching around Viktor's knot, but Viktor does his best to ignore it. He's finally giving off some happy scent. He doesn't want to ruin it with reminders of how awful he's being to Yuuri.

"An evening at the beach sounds perfect," he says. "Anything else?"

Most of the things Yuuri asks for are nostalgic. Memories of his childhood to recreate together. Viktor returns the same, talking about places they could visit and things they could do that made Yuuri happy when he was younger. They remind each other of different moments of shared joy, making Viktor's heart feel like it might burst.

Yuuri stops talking when the air is properly scented how he wants it to be, savoring it with slow deep breaths.

"Happy scent?" Viktor asks, like before.

"Happy scent," Yuuri confirms. "Thank you."

Viktor smiles.

It doesn't take long until his knot deflates and Yuuri agrees to sit and eat while Viktor takes care of things outside the nest.

"One kiss first, dad?"

"I have to pay in kisses to leave?"

"Yes."

Viktor kisses him softly, trying not to draw it out too much.

"There. Now eat."

"Can I have a smoothie? Like before?"

"Of course." He kisses Yuuri's forehead. "I'll make you another."

Viktor quickly takes care of the laundry, making sure it doesn't stay too long in the machine, and goes to the kitchen. He's not in heat, his stomach is happy to have something more than the bars he's been feeding Yuuri, and he fixes something a little nicer.

The distance from the strong scents of the nest allows him to relax a little. It's a mixed blessing. He shouldn't think too much about what he's doing, and it's harder without the scents muddling his mind. But it's temporary, right? Just until he can come up with a way to return them to a normal, healthy family dynamic, without hurting Yuuri with the push and the pull. Something decisive. The way they are right now is temporary. Just for now.

But since it's temporary... He's so tired of feeling bad, and when did it ever help Yuuri that he did? He enjoys every moment even as he's sickened with himself, he can't deny it. Even the way Yuuri switches between the usual "dad" and "daddy," with the latter reminding Viktor of the cheerful, stubborn, innocent child his boy used to be. It's terrible, to be enjoying this, but he  _ is. _ And since he can't stop yet, how much worse is it? How much worse is he, as a person, if he wants to savor it?

He groans and leaves his meal unfinished to make Yuuri's smoothie. Then, with it in hand, goes to his room, hoping to drown the thoughts in Yuuri's scent again. Even for this, he hates himself.

Yuuri is lying in bed, looking sleepy, but lights up when he sees Viktor. Viktor smiles and climbs into the nest carefully.

"Did you eat and drink, Yuura?" 

"Yes!"

"Good," Viktor kisses his cheek, watching him preen with pride, and hands him the smoothie. "Can you finish this, too?"

Yuuri leans into him, staying close and drinking slowly. He's so cute and calm. Viktor wants more of this, innocent moments of closeness, like this could have been if not for the context and their nudity. He gently strokes Yuuri's hair.

"How do you like it, Myshka?"

Yuuri smiles at him, tired and bright. "It's delicious."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a bit of a softer mood lately, I'm letting Viktor rest from how bad he usually feels. I'll punch him with it again after Yuuri's heat. :)  
> Hope you had fun!!!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missed me?
> 
> Life got in the way. The comments I got in between, as well as the sweetest thread on twitter (thank you so much and I'm so happy this story is good for you) helped more than I can say while I had to keep this on hold. This fic is therapeutic, and having so much support for it means the world.
> 
> I'm sorry for making you wait so long. Have some soft sex before we get back to tormenting Viktor ❤️

How much worse is it to enjoy it, if he's already doing it?

The question is no longer a constant hum at the back of Viktor's mind. It saturates everything, colors every sensation as he fucks into Yuuri, resting his forehead on the back of Yuuri's neck. He still can't bring himself to indulge the little flares of  _ want _ that rush through him. To lick a drop of sweat, to tell Yuuri he's beautiful, to change the angle of his thrusts for his own pleasure.

Soon, this will end. It's the final day of his heat and they're both exhausted. Yuuri's body might as well be liquid, Viktor has to hold his hips up. His abs ache with every thrust, in a pleasant way reminiscent of a long day of dancing. 

The urgency of Yuuri's need calmed a little, but each wave now lasts longer. It's much harder to manage. Viktor feels his orgasm close. Too close. He thrusts as deep as he can and stops, holding Yuuri to him so he can't force thrusts when he protests.

Yuuris's voice is weak when he whines, "Daddy, why—"

"Just a moment, Yuura."

Yuuri complies. His weak hands attempt to grasp the sheets, but only manage to make their trembling harder.

Viktor turns them over to the side. The feelings recede and he sighs.

"More? Soon?"

"Soon." He just needs to think of a way to get Yuuri through this. "Can I get a toy?"

"No," Yuuri cries, grabbing Viktor's arm around him, and Viktor realizes his mistake. "No no no, you promised, daddy you promised—"

"Shhh, Yuura, wait," Viktor says in a rush, "that's not what I meant, I'm sorry. It's not like before."

Yuuri settles down, still tense. "Not like before?"

"Not at all. I swear."

"You have to stay inside."

"I will. Can I look in the box and show you?"

"... Okay."

Viktor stretches to reach the box he'd put away and feels around until he recognizes the shape of the wand and pulls it out to show Yuuri.

"Oh."

"Okay, Yuura?"

Yuuri nods, burrowing back into Viktor's chest, arching his back to keep Viktor's cock from sliding out. Viktor curls around him, pushing inside to feel Yuuri sigh and relax into him.

"Can you spread your legs a little more?"

Yuuri does, and Viktor places the head of the wand between his legs. He presses the button to turn it on and feels the shock rattle Yuuri's body as a gasp is torn out of him.

Yuuri's hips move on their own and the twisting feels good as the sudden movements get Yuuri to pull back and forth, almost like he's fucking himself on Viktor's cock. He has to tighten his arm around Yuuri's waist to hold him in place, making sure he keeps the promise to stay inside even as he uses the toy.

Viktor thrusts into him again, continuing the pace he stopped before, making Yuuri's voice rise into a long scream that only stops when Yuuri chokes out a broken sound and comes. Knowing the need is far from being fulfilled, Viktor doesn't slow. He keeps to his rhythm, letting Yuuri grasp at the sheets as if he's trying to pull away while his voice and the movements of his body beg for more. He turns the vibrations up every time Yuuri comes, feeling the vibrations through his cock until they're strong even though the toy isn't directly on him. He feels Yuuri gushing slick around him, making the space between their thighs wet.

"One last knot for this wave, Myshka?" Viktor says when he starts to feel his own breath quickening, a new tide of pleasure rising in him slowly.

Yuuri comes to life with that suggestion, arching his back, pushing into him, a wordless resounding  _ yes. _ Days of sex did nothing to dull Viktor's awe of him. The whines, the little pleas, they're too much to handle. Viktor comes, muffling a groan as he bites Yuuri's shoulder, and his knot swells to seal them together.

"Ah— ahh, da-daddy, I—"

Viktor nods into the crook of Yuuri's shoulder, letting the scent numb his mind as the strong vibrations of the toy begin to numb his hand all the way to his forearm.

Yuuri is barely breathing. The sounds that leave him are choked and weak and lovely. Viktor lets him writhe, smelling and hearing and feeling each orgasm until, with a final high pitched cry, Yuuri goes limp. He turns the toy off as soon as he recognizes satisfaction in Yuuri's scent.

The smell of slick is stronger than he'd ever smelled it outside of the times he had his mouth on Yuuri. He looks down, seeing sheets so soaked there's a puddle of liquid in front of Yuuri. His mouth water, thinking how wet Yuuri would be if Viktor could taste him now.

He pulls Yuuri back to get him to a drier spot and reaches for a small towel lining a corner of the nest.

"Sorry," Yuuri says weakly.

"Don't worry about it," Viktor says, holding in the compliments. "It's natural."

"So much?"

"Yes. Did you this toy?"

"Mmhm."

"Good. We'll keep using it. You should drink some water before you fall asleep, Yuura."

Yuuri grumbles something, but reaches for a half-full bottle. If Viktor can manage, he'll get him to eat, too.

The rest of the heat passes with Yuuri overwhelmed by Viktor's cock, his hands, and the wand. The whole time Viktor reminds himself, just a bit more. Just a bit more, and he can start thinking of the way to pry them apart. Rebuild something better, healthier, purer, if possible.

At first, he doesn't know if he's relieved or uneasy. But as the heat dissipates from Yuuri's scent, as the need fades to be replaced by exhaustion, he finds himself mourning the loss. He doesn't have an answer to his question. He doesn't know how much worse it makes him. But as he cradles Yuuri, holding him close and wrapping around him, he finds himself savoring the touch of naked skin on skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize for making you wait. Other than personal real life issues, I didn't know it, but I had to reconcile the feeling I had in the first chapter with the feelings I have now. I much prefer the earlier chapters, if I'm honest. I'll try to seek out whatever got lost and infuse it back into the fic. Hope you'll stay with me on this journey.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone who commented: YOU'RE THE BEST. You give me life.
> 
> No porn, just sad~

The morning after Yuuri's heat, Viktor wakes up and squeezes Yuuri to him, just a little, feeling the press of their bodies. His mind is annoyingly clear and his chest tightens thinking of everything they did, how much he enjoyed it, how much he's still enjoying it. Unable to face it yet, Viktor buries his nose in Yuuri's neck to drown it out.

Yuuri shifts, a purr starting in his chest. He rolls his body and stretches his undoubtedly sore limbs. His arms wrap around Viktor.

"Good morning," he says sleepily.

"Good morning, Yuura. Sorry for waking you up."

Yuuri shakes his head and pushes himself into Viktor's chest, stretching his neck so Viktor can more easily drown in his scent, then takes a deep breath and settles down.

"Going back to sleep?"

Yuuri makes a noncommittal noise.

Viktor's thumb rubs circles into Yuuri's back. "Rest, Myshka. You're exhausted. Sleep."

Yuuri listens, clinging to Viktor and purring even after his breathing evens out. He's so cute it hurts.

The heat is over. Viktor made a decision, for Yuuri's sake, and the time he has until he has to go through with it is limited. Yuuri is still so fragile and vulnerable, he needs the stability of Viktor's compliance, but once he's recovered... Viktor closes his eyes, trying not to think about it. Unlike Yuuri, he doesn't manage to sleep again.

Around noon, Yuuri wakes up again, frowning at the discomfort of his dirty and sticky skin, and asks for a bath.

Viktor carries him to the bathroom, fills the tub with soapy bubbly water, and agrees to get in with Yuuri. The boy is still weak and exhausted, purring and leaning against Viktor as he washes them both clean.

Viktor's hands tremble as they pass all over Yuuri's body, rubbing the grime from every spot and feeling Yuuri's shivers when he passes across somewhere sensitive. Yuuri's eyes are closed and he smells of contentment, savoring the closeness and Viktor's careful touch.

When it's done, Viktor drains the tub, dries them both, and takes Yuuri back to his room, where he sits Yuuri on a clean corner of the bed and goes to get himself some soft clothing to wear.

"You should wear something too." 

"No."

"It's not your heat anymore. Please,let me give you something to wear."

Yuuri looks very small curling into himself under the towel and looking at Viktor with a strange, sad expression.

"My underwear that you taught me to wash. The pretty kind. And your shirt. It has to smell like you." 

Viktor sighs, remembering those ridiculous lacy panties that were featured in some dreams he wants to purge from his mind. Better than nothing.

"Fine. I'll go get those and I'll scent a shirt for you."

When Yuuri has them on, Viktor gets to work dismantling the nest in his bed. Yuuri watches quietly at first, and then Viktor hears a quiet sob. He looks at Yuuri, alarmed.

"Yuura?"

Yuuri shakes his head, hugging his own body. "Sorry. It's nothing. I want a clean bed, too."

Viktor drops a blanket into the basket to carry out of the room.

"You don't want to say goodbye to the nest yet."

Yuuri shakes his head.

Viktor comes closer and rubs Yuuri's arm soothingly. "You'll get better at building them. You'll have far nicer nests than I can make."

Yuuri nods, but Viktor gets the feeling that he didn't address the issue that brought on the tears.

"Can I continue? You need more rest. A dirty bed isn't comfortable."

Yuuri nods.

"Thank you," Viktor says and kisses his forehead, feeling a painful tug in his heart when Yuuri leans into it, reaching a hand out as if to hug Viktor. "I'll finish this quickly and you can go back to sleep a bit more."

"You too?" 

"I—" Viktor isn't very tired anymore, not physically, but this isn't what Yuuri is asking. "I thought you'd like a proper meal. I wanted to cook."

"I want a hug."

They've been doing nothing but hugging and holding each other for so long, and Yuuri is still hungry for more. Even worse, so is Viktor. The latter is a good argument against this, but he's already decided to stop resisting until he knows how to break this...  _ arrangement _ completely.

And besides, whatever it is about the nest that made Yuuri cry, if hugging some more will help... It won't be the worst thing Viktor did.

"Okay. Well order some takeout instead."

Yuri's shoulders slump, releasing tension Viktor didn't notice.

He rises on tiptoes to give Viktor a kiss and Viktor curses the ease with which he returns it, tasting Yuuri's lips and wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him.

"Thank you, dad."

Viktor returns to his work on the nest, but there's a lingering buzz of disquiet. With every item Viktor removes from the bed, there's a memory of clutching hands and a head thrown back with beautiful black hair, damp with sweat or matted to the skin of Yuuri's forehead and temples. If only cleaning his mind was as easy as opening a window and changing sheets.

The bed is stripped bare and Viktor opens the closet to get new sheets and the last unused blanket he'd kept out of the nest. There, in the back of the closet rests a photo album he hadn't looked at in years.

He freezes. Echoes of childlike laughter seem to emanate from it.

The first picture, of his then-bride holding their baby, is clear in his mind. The one picture he took himself, playing peek-a-boo with Yuuri behind the camera to get beautiful peals of laughter from both mother and child.

"Dad?"

Viktor almost recoils at the sound of Yuuri's voice, grown and mature. Yuuri sounds like himself now, unlike the days of his heat, but the contrast with the memories immortalized in that album brings to mind Yuuri's desperate cries of "Daddy, more. Daddy, please."

He wants to run. 

He quickly takes the sheets, shutting the closet door. "I'm fine, Yuura." 

Yuuri frowns and comes to open it. Viktor turns around, but not before he sees his eyes go wide.

"Dad—"

"Leave it there."

"It's the wedding album, isn't it?"

"Please," Viktor says and it comes out broken. "I'll finish this and you'll rest. Leave that there."

Yuuri is silent for a long moment.

"Fine."

Viktor releases a held breath slowly.

"Will you order the food while I finish here? You know where to find my phone and my credit card."

"Okay." 

"Choose whatever you want but try to pick something light. You didn't eat anything substantial in days."

Yuuri leaves the room, leaning on the doorframe on his way out, and Viktor feels guilty for his relief at being alone for a moment, however short.

Soon enough, though, after finishing their tasks, they're both in bed. Yuuri's fingers curl into Viktor's shirt and he seems uneasy. He doesn't meet Viktor's eyes. When he leans up for a kiss, he keeps his eyes closed, leaving Viktor to close the distance.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Yuura?"

"When I wore mom's clothes... Did it make you happy?"

Viktor closes his eyes, trying to fight the sudden stabbing pain in his chest. This question, right after the kiss, makes him sick.

Yuuri continues, "I know it's sad and we miss her, but... I was happy. Did I make you sad?"

Viktor swallows. "No, of course not. It didn't make me sad."

"But did it make you happy?"

"I... I don't think I that word—"

"So it didn't."

Viktor sighs. "The clothes suit you. And I like knowing how much she'd enjoy you wearing them. If you want to wear them more often, you can."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's the only answer I have."

Yuuri hugs him, tucking himself into Viktor's chest, trembling. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Those clothes are yours more than they are mine."

Yuuri shakes his head.

For once Viktor can hug him and it isn't charged. There's nothing sexual about it. The air is clear, the bed is fresh, he can't feel Yuuri's skin through the clothes. Yuuri's enticing scent is weak from the shower, and easier to resist so soon after the heavy allure of his heat.

Viktor hugs his son in the closest imitation of normalcy that he can manage, playing pretend as his mind fills with images of how simple it could have been. He commits this moment to memory and promises himself to create more, knowing they will torture him later, but also knowing he'll have nothing more precious  _ after, _ when they're apart.

Maybe, if he's careful, he can create and keep more memories without adding to the twisted nature of their relationship. He's going to break the promise he made Yuuri to keep them together as long as Yuuri wants it, but he can keep some of the other promises he made.

"Should I take you skating tomorrow, Myshka?"

Yuuri nods into his chest. He isn't going to sleep until after they finish eating, but nothing more is said for now. Viktor kisses Yuuri's hair and hugs him tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!!!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna have smut for a while, but trust me, when it's back it's going to be amazing.

Yuuri's glide on the ice is magic. He's grace personified, beauty given form, and Viktor regrets, again, that he can't bring himself to tell him that. He isn't supposed to enjoy Yuuri's beauty the way he does, yet he's transfixed.

Yuuri looks up at Viktor and smiles, hesitant at first but growing wide when Viktor smiles back.

The lines of Yuuri's body as he shifts his weight on his skates invoke images that are too real. Memories of trembling limbs and drops of sweat rolling over Yuuri's temples.

Yuuri notices something and his skating slows. Viktor follows his gaze and sees a couple rounding the rink with linked hands. When Yuuri picks up speed again he rushes towards the edge of the rink and stands in front of Viktor.

"Dad," he says, with a little blush that could be just the cold air but might be more, "skate with me?"

A chill runs through Viktor at the thought of mimicking the romantic display and being seen like this in public.

"No. I don't think I'll skate."

Yuuri's shoulders slump a little.

"But I promised you we'll dance together, didn't I?" Viktor says, hating seeing Yuuri's excitement fading. "Like we did when I taught you ballroom. When we get home, if you're not too tired, we can do that."

Yuuri lights up. "I won't be tired!" he promises and pushes back to continue skating.

His excitement and happiness show in his movements even while skating simple figures, looking free and so beautiful. Viktor presses a hand to his chest, trying to crush the possessive feelings as Yuuri's loveliness is shown publicly, for everyone who might look. He used to enjoy moments like this, watching with pride as his boy's talent was put on display. Now he imagines joining him, dancing with him, kissing him right there in the middle of the rink, saying _"Mine."_

His eyes don't leave Yuuri for a second, not even when he steps away from the rink and removes his skates.

At home, Yuuri doesn't wait. He gets the music ready and pushes furniture around. Viktor shakes his head, because Yuuri is obviously tired, but helps prepare the living room for dancing.

"One last thing," Yuuri says when they have the space and rushes into Viktor's room.

He comes out wearing a gorgeous blue dress that his mother wore for competitions. Viktor's breath catches in his throat.

"Yuura—"

"It fits."

Viktor stands there, faced with Yuuri's brilliant smile, and swallows. "It does."

Years of training and dancing lead Viktor through holding Yuuri when he joins him. They start the music and those same instincts carry him through the steps of their dance. The fabric under his hand is familiar, but the shape of Yuuri's body under it doesn't match his memories.

The songs change once, twice. Their living room is a small stage, but they make the best of it.

The blue dress remains at the forefront of Viktor's thoughts.

"You've been trying to connect to mom lately."

Yuuri hums an agreement. "You haven't."

Viktor purses his lips. "This sounds like an accusation, Yuura."

If Yuuri was still learning, Viktor would have scolded him then for relaxing out of the correct posture. But this is home, not a performance. This is them, trying to have a private moment between them. Viktor relaxes too. They keep dancing, if it can be called that. Swaying almost in place.

"The album in your closet," Yuuri says. "Can we look at it, after this?"

"Of course."

The next dance feels more intimate than the rest. Their feet barely move. Yuuri lays his head on Viktor's shoulder.

"Did you love mom?"

The question stings, as always. The fact that Yuuri keeps asking means he probably knows the answer.

"She was my favorite person until you were born."

"You always say that. I'm not a kid anymore. I know you know that's not what I asked."

"... Then my answer would depend on how you define 'love.'"

"Is that why you don't talk about her?"

"I do talk about her."

"I haven't heard you say her name in years."

Viktor's hand twitches in its place at Yuuri's waist. "I did love Noriko," he starts, and the truth of Yuuri's words is evident in how foreign the name feels on his lips. "I loved her as much as I knew how. But it wasn't..." He sighs, and the way Yuuri tenses in his arms means he probably knows how this sentence is supposed to end. "I don't know if she noticed. If she did, she didn't say anything. Maybe it was enough for her. She seemed happy."

"Did she love you?"

"She did."

It always felt like he was betraying her, somehow, by not loving her the same way. It feels like a bigger betrayal, loving Yuuri the way he does.

"I miss her," Yuuri says.

"Me too."

Yuuri hugs him closer, clinging until their dance is over.

Music still plays when Viktor goes and brings the album. They sit on the bed, Yuuri cuddling into Viktor's side, and flip through the photos. Viktor shares stories, memories, even laughs with Yuuri a couple of times. In the photographs, frozen in time, his bride dances with a laughing child in her arms. The picture of happiness. The little boy looks almost exactly like her in the pictures. The real Yuuri, at his side, even more so.

She deserved to see it.

"Can we go to the beach tonight?" Yuuri asks, sounding drowsy.

"Are you sure? You're exhausted already."

"I just need a nap."

He shouldn't be pushing himself like this so soon after his heat. Viktor smiles. "I won't wake you up. If it's not too late when you feel rested, we'll go."

"Promise?"

"We don't have to do it all at once. There's always time tomorrow."

Yuuri hums, displeased, but nuzzles into Viktor's side. "Stay with me?"

"Take a shower, you'll feel better. Wear something other than mom's dress. We don't want to ruin it."

Yuuri nods and gets up with difficulty and Viktor is relieved when he doesn't ask for them to shower together. He leaves the bed to lean against the windowsill and breathe. No sweet, enticing scents. Just fresh, clear air.

He takes his phone and downloads a new browser, one that isn't synced with their laptop, to keep the history of his searches accessible to him but private from Yuuri.

_ There's always time tomorrow. _

There are different paths he can take for them to live separately. The simplest one, probably the healthiest one, is what he's already considered: sending Yuuri to a school far from home, where he'll share a dorm with kids his age.

The idea makes him sick.

He reads about different locations, looks into the process of transferring Yuuri from one school to another, and the whole time he wants to curl up against the pain in his chest.

Yuuri already lost his mother. They only have each other, and yet Viktor is planning to walk away from him too. To tear them apart, breaking his promise. Temporary or not, that will be Yuuri's choice. But at least for a while, he'll be alone.

It's good that Yuuri wants to go out again soon. Viktor is going to use the time he has with his son as best he can and cherish these memories.

Yuuri comes back in not long after, smelling clean and soapy. Viktor joins him in bed, as promised, and doesn't resist when Yuuri kisses him. He already decided to let it happen until he leaves, but he can't be sure if that's why he kisses back. When tasting the sweetness of Yuuri's lips, he can't even imagine walking away.

Yuuri stops and frowns up at him. "Dad? Why are you sad?"

Viktor's scent is carefully held back. His emotions shouldn't be easy to spot.

"Why do you think I'm sad?"

"It just... feels that way. Am I making you sad again?"

"Oh, Yuura, no." Viktor rests their foreheads together. "No, you never do. It's not you. I promise."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't want you to worry about it right now."

"I'll worry if you don't tell me."

"Yuura, let your father do the worrying, okay? Some things aren't meant to be your burdens."

"... Fine."

He rests a hand on Yuuri's cheek, a thumb slowly stroking the boy's collarbone.

"Sleep, Myshka. I'll be here."

It isn't technically a lie yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you hear Viktor's heart breaking?  
> I'm enjoying this sandbox.
> 
> Tired of being anon, come say hi on twitter: riparia_vyv


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed posting a chapter day after day. No promise to get back to that, though

In Viktor's pocket, his phone feels heavy with one unanswered email. A request to have him travel for a job, choreographing a routine for a group of dancers.

Viktor doesn't travel for jobs, not far. He has a response prepared for every offer that requires long travel. He has to be home for Yuuri. He can't leave Yuuri alone.

This time, he didn't answer. He knows what he should do, but he can't quite manage it.

Fulfilling another promise, Viktor lets Yuuri dance for him. Yuuri wears shorts and a shirt that reveals his midriff when throws his arms up. He moves with fluid motions meant to enchant and entice. 

Their living room — still an open space from yesterday's dancing — fills with a subtle scent of sweat and excitement as Yuuri moves, chin raised, the elegant line of his neck making him look proud and strong. 

The shirt accentuates and complements the sway of his hips, emphasizing each sway of his hips. It draws Viktor in, inviting him to come and touch, and he's sure this isn't part of the original choreography, if this whole performance is even something from his dance classes.

Yuuri finishes as the music draws to a close, his breathing slowing and relaxing.

"Incredible," Viktor says honestly, because this isn't a situation where he can avoid a compliment. It feels wrong to say out loud when his thoughts linger on licking the skin exposed by Yuuri's shirt.

Yuuri beams, not hearing the turmoil behind the simple word, and comes to sit next to Viktor.

"You liked it?"

"It was obviously made for you. A display of your skills and strengths. Do you plan to perform this?"

Yuuri leans back, smile softer on his face. "No. I just wanted you to see."

Viktor hates the relief he feels when he hears that. Like the jealousy when Yuuri's skating was public. He has no right to be possessive.

Yuuri leans towards him, tilting his face in an obvious request for a kiss. Viktor gives it, expecting it to be everything, but Yuuri scoots closer and tries to climb into his lap. Viktor almost stops him. Almost. Instead he memorizes the weight of Yuuri in his lap and the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his breath. He doesn't have long.

On the way to the beach, Yuuri chooses a pretty dress for himself. Something summery and bright that looks beautiful on him.

"I wish I could wear it right now. It'd be perfect for the beach."

"It's been getting colder. If we went in the morning you could have, but it's late for that now."

"I know. That's okay. You'll just have to take me next year."

"Yes."

Where will they be next year?

Despite the cold, they get ice cream as promised. This chocolate ice cream is the only kind Yuuri likes. It's nostalgic, a taste of his childhood. They walk along the beach, finishing their cones quietly.

Yuuri takes his shoes in hand and walks in the water, pausing to play with the sand under his feet. Viktor smiles watching him. There's a calm innocence to the moment. Something pure that he thought lost. A glimmer of hope that they could, one day, return to what they had. No underlying desire, no longing to touch, just the simple joy of time spent with Yuuri.

They don't go home for hours. For dinner, they get food from one of the different overpriced places dotted along the beach. The sun sets and the sky fills with stars and Viktor... doesn't want to go back.

Eventually, they have to. Yuuri washes his feet from sand near the flimsy-looking showers at the beach and they sit to wait for his feet to dry so he can wear his shoes without the annoying sensation of wet feet.

"Thanks, dad," Yuuri says, nudging Viktor's hand with his own. "This was the best date."

Viktor freezes as the word pierces through him. He looks at Yuuri, but Yuuri's eyes are fixed on the seagulls. Viktor can barely hear them. His ears ring.

With a deep breath, he manages to gather himself, hiding the way his mind is screaming. He's quiet on the way home, but Yuuri doesn't seem to notice the difference in his silence.

As soon as they're inside, Viktor heads for the bathroom, locking himself in and sliding to the floor.

A date. Yuuri called it a  _ date. _

Viktor claws at his own chest.

A date.

Yuuri's insistence on calling this vile and disgusting thing a  _ relationship _ should have prepared him for this, but it didn't. All that time, Yuuri was happy to be on a  _ date _ with him.

There's no way to reconcile what Viktor should be for Yuuri and what he's become. What Viktor tries to build and what Yuuri wants.

Whatever path he chooses, Yuuri has no parents anymore.

Viktor takes his phone and sends an email back, accepting the job offer. He'll be living in hotels for as long as he needs to. He's been stalling enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We officially enter the angst chapters


	22. Chapter 22

In the morning, when Viktor tells him he needs to fly out for a job, Yuuri isn't happy with the news.

"You don't work that far."

"I didn't use to. But you're not a child anymore. You can cook and take care of the house. I'll pay for help cleaning once a week. Lilia agreed to check in and make sure you have the help you need with homework. There's no reason to say no."

"When will you be back?"

And that's the hard part. "I don't know."

Yuuri's eyes snap to him. "What?"

"When I'm done with that job, I won't be coming back here."

"You're... not coming back home? For how long?"

"Not for a while."

"Dad, how long?"

"I don't know. As long as I need to."

Yuuri's eyes are wide. His scent is overshadowed by distress.

"I think we need some time apart. Some distance should help."

"No."

"Yuura—"

"You promised!" Yuuri cries.

"I promised I wouldn't send you away. And I'm not."

The way Yuuri looks, Viktor might as well have hit him. Trembling, he gets up from the sofa and goes to his room, slamming the door behind him.

He doesn't leave the room for the whole day. Not even to eat. He doesn't answer when Viktor calls him.

That night, in bed, Viktor hears him in the kitchen. Relieved that Yuuri won't be starving himself at least, he doesn't go to try to talk.

Over the next few days, Yuuri keeps avoiding him. When he has to leave the house for school or ballet, he doesn't look at Viktor. He doesn't let Viktor drive him. He doesn't even say goodbye when Viktor leaves for his flight.

It's as though, for him, Viktor already left.

After a painfully long flight, Viktor arrives at his hotel. It's a relatively cheap choice, but the place is well maintained. Good enough until he finds a semi-permanent place for the next several months. Then, when he's done with this job, he'll find something else to keep him away.

The room is small and quiet, full of muted unfamiliar scents. It's his first time alone at a hotel, in... Oh. Maybe it is the first. From his parents to his wife and then Yuuri, he always had someone with him, either taking him along or being brought by him on whatever vacation he chose to have.

He expected to find some peace once alone, but his heartache is suffocating. The inability to walk or even drive the distance between him and Yuuri makes him feel trapped. Stuck in this one spot when his heart is left somewhere else.

He takes his phone and writes Yuuri a short message. "If you need anything, ask Lilia. I'll pay her back for anything, so make it whatever you need." Then, he erases it without sending. He already told Yuuri this. It's an excuse to contact him as soon as possible.

How much distance should he maintain, aside from the physical? How often should he check in? When should he start? How does he create a balance between doing his job as a father, and cutting them from each other? Is it possible to lose the unhealthy attachment and keep the rest?

He sends Lilia a message, telling her he's arrived safe, and puts his phone away. He opens his suitcase to prepare his clothes for tomorrow, when he'll meet the people he'll have to work with. He already knows he'll have no patience for anyone.

When he starts moving the clothes, stirring the scents, he smells something familiar that shouldn't be here. "No," he mutters, opening the bag of dirty clothes he took, intending to wash them here, and finds one of his own shirts that carries a scent that  _ isn't _ his.

Yuuri wore that one.

_ "Fuck." _

He opens a new plastic bag and shoves it in, tying it close as well as he can and then putting  _ that _ into a second plastic bag. He pushes the lump as far as it will go, under the rest of his clothes, and only breathes once it's gone.

It's in the air. Faint, but unmistakable.

Viktor curls in on himself and starts crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe :3


	23. Chapter 23

Every morning, when the studio is quiet, Viktor is the first to arrive. Before he works with anyone else, he needs to dance. This private time is a known condition when working with him.

Viktor's choreography, to his own eyes, was uninspired for the first few weeks. He had to start imagining Yuuri dancing it to think of anything with any measure of artistry. He sinks into the fantasy now, in the empty studio. He moves on practiced feet, falling into familiar pieces he'd worked on before. Inevitably, ones choreographed for Yuuri.

Viktor dances, feeling hollow knowing the feeling of Yuuri moving alongside him, until the doors open and he's no longer alone. Again he's forced to watch (admittedly talented) dancers with not a half of Yuuri's charm performing routines that would be best suited to display his boy's beauty.

He remembers their dances  _ together, _ with Yuuri's body against his, held close and warm.

Over the last few weeks, Yuuri's been refusing his calls or his texts, choosing to ignore Viktor completely. It's been so long since they last spoke.

Viktor wasn't able to resist opening the bags and smelling Yuuri's scent almost daily for as long as he could. Even when it grew stale, it was better than nothing. But soon enough, the scent was gone. Viktor washed the shirt, feeling like he's washing away the last traces of Yuuri that he brought along with him.

At least three times a week, he tries to call Yuuri. Then, when that fails, he calls Lilia in the evening. He needs to check in, needs to know how Yuuri is doing, even if it hurts him every time. Lilia isn't sympathetic.

"I offered to let him move into my house," she says a couple of months in.

"What did he say?"

"He refused."

"I see."

"It would have been better. He isn't eating well. When he does eat, it's nothing healthy."

"Still?"

"Still. What did you do?"

Viktor swallows. "What do you mean?"

"This is not a normal reaction. His father flying away for a few months can't be what's making him act like this. I don't believe that this is the whole story. What happened?"

Viktor leans back into his chair, massaging his temple. "I don't know what to tell you."

"You did something to hurt him and now you're running away."

Close to the truth. Uncomfortably so.

"Vitya, you need to come back and deal with whatever it is. What kind of example are you giving him, acting like a coward?"

She doesn't know what she's talking about. This  _ is _ dealing with his mistake. Viktor itches to hang up. His hand trembles.

"He skips school," she goes on. "He even skips ballet. And where are you?"

"At work."

"Then quit."

Viktor sighs. This is going nowhere. "... Listen. Next week, I'll be able to call less."

"Hm." Viktor almost hears her raised eyebrow.

"It's for good, biological, unavoidable reasons."

"... Fine. If you still don't have the sense to come back after, at least call as soon as you can."

"Of course. I wouldn't want to deprive you of the opportunity to tell me I'm a failure of a father."

"You're being foolish. Failing him is your own choice."

Viktor barely manages to end the conversation politely before he hangs up.

He's too on edge to be any help for anyone, so it's fortunate his break from work for his rut starts today. He has food and drink in place, same as he did for Yuuri's heat. The restless energy under his skin tells him he has a day or two left before it fully starts.

For now, he's avoiding people. Anyone who isn't Yuuri can't do anything but get on his nerves, and Yuuri... He's at home, by design too far for Viktor to reach.

The headache that started while talking to Lilia gets worse and Viktor goes to bed. In a moment of weakness, he takes with him the shirt that long ago carried Yuuri's scent.

The closest thing he has to holding him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: a very lonely rut


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asked to not make you wait as long this time and I'm very nice

Viktor wakes up restless and aching for release. Mindlessly, before he's even fully awake, he grinds on the mattress, Yuuri's name on the tip of his tongue and his beautiful face filling his mind. The images are moments from his dream, not accurate memories. They're still vivid. Detailed. Informed by his experiences, that never should have happened. The regret hits him after he comes.

To give himself some semblance of control, he tries to play some porn on a laptop that sits ready at his bedside table. Naked bodies move against each other. Images that, in the past, helped Viktor through lonely ruts. They don't offer the same comfort now.

He manages to drag himself through a few orgasms but without meaning to, he keeps closing his eyes and sinking into his own fantasies as he strokes his cock.

He begins to hate the actors on the screen. Not for any rational reason, but for the simple crime of not being able to distract him from Yuuri.

Or, if he's honest, for not  _ being _ Yuuri.

Yuuri, who would be so beautiful under him right now, his body bending effortlessly under Viktor's hands. The taste of Yuuri's slick, the heat of him— Viktor's mouth waters at the memory.

The omega in the video doesn't moan like Yuuri does, but when he pants, as if trying to hold the noises in, it's close enough for Viktor to pretend. This ends up a curse more than a blessing as any sound that crosses the stranger's lips pulls Viktor away from his fantasy. He growls in annoyance, both at the actor and himself, gritting his teeth and slamming the laptop shut.

Viktor buries his nose in the shirt, smelling nothing but his own scent. Yuuri's is long gone. His fists twist into it and he hears tearing, threads snapping at the seams.

He knows that the next few days are going to be a nightmare.

The ache can't be ignored and the need can't be denied. It sits deep in his gut and nothing can distract him from it. The more he tries to reason with it, the harder it becomes. His breathing is rough and he grows lightheaded, as if his ribcage refuses to fully expand without Yuuri's scent to fill his lungs.

Every moment of suppressed possessive feelings seems to hit him at once with the need to make Yuuri  _ his _ in every way that he shouldn't, and he can't remember why he ever denied himself.

He takes a bit of lube, stroking his cock and closing his eyes, letting the wet sounds and the smooth slide remind him of the sensation of fucking Yuuri. It's a poor substitute, but every moment together is seared into his mind, alive with scents and flavors, sights and sounds, the soft heat of Yuuri's skin.

He grits his teeth until it hurts, his headache pounding at his temples, then growls.

He wants a bond. Something that would let him feel Yuuri when he's away. More than what they already are, a symbol of Yuuri's choice to have  _ him. _

If only he'd have let Yuuri bite him when he tried to.

If only he'd bitten Yuuri's neck over his gland instead of holding back. His  _ shoulder _ when he could have marked his neck.

He bites into the disappointing shirt draped over his pillow, hearing it ripping, and comes with the memory of his teeth sinking into Yuuri's skin. It's so unsatisfying that his desperation only grows, muscles knotted painfully rather than relaxing with the aftermath of his climax.

He lets out a pathetic sob, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, and soon loses himself to his rut.

He barely has time to drink and sleep between his sad attempts to keep up with his body's needs.  _ Nothing _ satisfies him. Even with lube easing the friction, by the end he rubs himself raw until it hurts to touch and still feels unsatisfied. No rut has ever felt like this.

After long days of pure torture, he gets up from the bed, every muscle stiff and aching. The shirt is torn to shreds and he'd laugh if his throat wasn't so sore and his head didn't pulse with a headache that he recognizes as dehydration. First he manages to do this to Yuuri, and now himself. Pathetic.

But... he got through it. This is as hard as it gets, and he survived.

He drains one of the bottles before leaving the bed and stripping the sheets and changing them. If he doesn't do this now, he'll just collapse back into it when he's clean. On his way to the shower, he puts his phone to charge. His muscles refuse to loosen under the stream, and he notes to himself that he'll need to do something about this before getting back to work.

He leaves the shower and takes the phone, intending to order some food. He finds a few texts inside. The usual from Lilia, likely repeating arguments they've exhausted, and... his eyes widen.

Yuuri.

Heart already in his throat, he opens it. After a string of his own messages begging for a reply, there's a single message from Yuuri:

_ Your scent is fading. It doesn't smell like home anymore. _

He was wrong. His rut wasn't the worst part.  _ This _ is.

And he isn't strong enough.

Trembling, unable to hold himself, Viktor drops onto the bed, sitting and staring at Yuuri's words until his vision blurs.

The screen goes black and the first tear falls onto it. Viktor screws his eyes shut, letting it fall from his fingers before drawing both legs up towards his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He wanted to get food, but there's no way his stomach will be able to hold it. Right now even the water he'd drank feels too heavy.

Noriko's name doesn't manage to get past his lips, but he does choke out, "I'm sorry. I can't."

It's an admission of defeat, but as he dissolves into a new bout of sobs, he's overwhelmed by relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Throws Viktor's heart and his resolve from a the top of Hasetsu castle*  
> Oh, look. It broke.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Okay, boys, time for reunion sex  
> Them: Get emotional for the longest chapter yet  
> Me: What the fuck
> 
> Sorry! Sex next time! Might have a 27th chapter to fit in everything I want.

Viktor wakes up at the foot of the bed, in a position that does nothing to help his aching muscles. His stomach is growling and he still feels dehydrated. He drank a whole bottle only to cry it out later. The thought makes him smile wryly.

More than anything, he's tired.

He knows this feeling. It had him giving in, giving himself excuses of waiting for a way out. An escape from desire, from pleasure, from everything he wants, laid out in front of him and begging him to  _ take. _

That exhaustion is worse now. Just being so far away hurts.

To Yuuri's message, he replies with "I'll be home in two weeks." Yuuri doesn't reply, so he sends it to Lilia too, to make sure Yuuri hears it from someone even if he's avoiding his phone.

He intended to go somewhere very different when this job is done. He has to use the next couple of weeks to communicate this change of plans, making phone calls and apologizing for cancelations, as well as finishing whatever he can here.

Over that time, the exhaustion changes into something different. Viktor realizes he feels lighter, less agitated, more patient. The decision to stay away was taking a toll, and he forgot how easy things can be without it. He's still lonely, still cursing the distance every night, but there's an end now, fast approaching.

Unlike the end of Yuuri's heat, he isn't dreading this one. He isn't clinging desperately to each passing second and begging for time to stop while hating himself for it, punishing himself for the happiness he found with Yuuri in his arms.

If he closes his eyes and looks for the guilt he finds it, somewhere within his line of sight. There's no urge to approach and pick it back up. From this distance, it looks so heavy and ugly, ready to swallow him whole.

He feels himself relaxing. Facing what he is isn't scary anymore: a monster, yes, nothing will change that.

But if he's already a monster, can't he choose to be a happy one?

The flight home feels longer and shorter than the one away from it. He messages both Yuuri and Lilia to let them know he's boarding and then again after landing. Yuuri, as usual, says nothing. Lilia just says "Good."

His hands begin to tremble when approaches the front door, unlocks, opens it—  _ home, finally— _

A thrown pillow hits his face.

Viktor staggers back and manages to fumble and catch it before it falls to the floor. When he does, another pillow hits him. Then another. Unable to keep up, he ends up dropping all three.

"Yuuri!" he exclaims, raising an arm to defend himself from a fourth and a fifth as he moves inside, pushing his luggage and the growing pile of pillows indoors with him so he can close the door.

The sixth and last is a heavier decorative pillow. It hits the hardest, but still not enough to hurt. Each hit from a pillow is like a punch of misery as it releases Yuuri's concentrated scent into the air.

When no more pillows seem to hit him, he finally lowers his arm and looks at Yuuri. "Does that mean it's too late to apologize?"

Yuuri crashes into him, arms wrapping around Viktor's torso, and Viktor holds him because it's the most natural thing to do when he's close.

"Not too late, then? Because I am sorry." 

Yuuri is trembling and Viktor feels in his weight that he's struggling to hold himself up. Overwhelmed himself with Yuuri so close, he can't keep them both upright. He sits them down on the floor, leaning against the door.

"You know," he says, "this isn't the welcome I expected."

Yuuri's shoulders tense. "I hate you."

Ouch. "I deserve that."

"I don't want to forgive you." 

Viktor hears  _ "yet" _ in the way Yuuri clings to him desperately. He rests his cheek on Yuuri's head, feeling the softness of his hair.

"You don't have to. I can hold you just as well angry."

Yuuri relaxes a little, leaning more fully into his embrace.

Quietly, Yuuri says, "Okaeri."

Viktor's "Tadaima" gets stuck in his throat. He hugs Yuuri tighter, closes his eyes, and breathes him in. He feels, in the slow expansion of Yuuri's lungs, that he's doing the same.

The floor isn't very comfortable, but with Yuuri finally in his arms, he doesn't care.

When he's ready to open his eyes, Viktor notices that the layout of their living room changed. He needs a moment to spot what it is.

"Where's the television?"

"In your room," Yuuri says, face tucked into Viktor's chest.

"Did you move to my room?"

Yuuri shakes his head. "Sleeping there was going to replace your scent with mine faster."

"Then...?"

"Afternoons. Sometimes. I slept in  _ my _ room."

"Did you make a nest? The pillows all have a very strong scent."

Yuuri nods and Viktor's heart aches at the thought of him seeking out comfort so desperately, and ending up with a nest that smells of his pain.

"Did you eat today?" 

Yuuri doesn't answer.

"Okay," Viktor loosens his embrace and gently pushes Yuuri to sit straighter. "I'll see what I can make for you in the kitchen. We'll have dinner. We'll talk. Then we can go to my room and watch something."

Yuuri lets him go to the kitchen, staying in the same room and keeping his eyes on Viktor like he might vanish otherwise.

"I'll make something light. I think Katsudon is a bit heavy if you haven't eaten for a while and I hear you've been missing meals."

"You told Lilia what I liked to eat."

"Yes. And you still didn't eat when she cooked it for you." 

"It didn't taste like yours."

Viktor has to pause in his preparations and close his eyes.

"Yuura. I know what I did to you was very cruel."

"It  _ wasn't, _ it was—"

"I'm talking about leaving."

Yuuri settles down. "Oh."

"I know it hurt you. And I truly am sorry. But not eating? That was extreme."

"... You were going to wait until I don't want you anymore to come back."

"Yes."

"That wasn't going to happen. So I thought I'll never see you."

Viktor cooks quietly after that. His feelings can't be put into words. It's not by the confirmation that Yuuri still wants him — he knew that already — but Yuuri's confidence that it won't change.

They eat and Viktor doesn't miss Yuuri's glances up at him. He finishes first, and Yuuri keeps looking at his face, at his lips. Blushing a little when Viktor meets his eyes.

In the past he even made Viktor feed him. Now he eats, not being spoiled or trying to pull romantic gestures out of Viktor. He has Viktor back, but he's acting timid. The distance between them is still there.

"How long are you staying?" Yuuri asks.

"I have no plans to leave."

It isn't clear if Yuuri believes him. He finishes the food quietly, then says, "I don't want to talk."

"It's getting late. Do you want to sleep in your nest?"

Viktor can see the "no" on his face, but Yuuri hesitates.

Before, his fear of rejection was tempered by the knowledge that whatever he does, he can't lose Viktor. That knowledge, supported by Viktor's promise, allowed him to be stubborn and pushy and demanding.

Destroying that confidence is the greatest betrayal Viktor could have committed.

"Yuura."

Yuuri looks at him nervously. Viktor strokes his cheek, watching his beautiful brown eyes widen with a slight shiver. 

"Open the window in my room and change the sheets. I'll wash the dishes. Then I'll join you there."

Yuuri nods. There's a complex mix of emotions on his face. A prominent one is fear. Another is longing.

Viktor gave him what he wanted for a while. That did not end well when he took it away. He needs to show him that this time is different.

Yuuri stands awkwardly near the bed when Viktor steps inside. The open window didn't have time to air the room out, but Viktor doesn't mind. If Yuuri lets him, he'll be breathing air directly from his neck. He doesn't care what the rest of the room smells like.

In a corner of the room, Viktor sees the sheets and pillows and blankets Yuuri stripped off the bed. Two blankets, the heaviest they have.

Viktor pictures him lying here, small and alone, trying to imitate a hug with the weight and warmth of the blankets. Keeping that little bit of luxury for the days he needed it most, hoping to spend as long as possible surrounded by the fading scents Viktor left in this room.

Viktor sits on the bed and takes Yuuri's trembling hand, pulling him in.

"If you go again," Yuuri says, voice weak, "I won't forgive you. Ever."

"Do you think I'll be cruel enough to leave again over something I'm starting?"

Yuuri looks away. "No."

"Then come here?"

He has Yuuri lie in bed, his face to Viktor, and drapes an arm over him. Yuuri doesn't resist, but he's tense. Viktor wants to bury his nose in Yuuri's neck, flatten his palms on Yuuri's back and hug him tighter, but the tension he senses from Yuuri keeps him from doing any of that. It doesn't go away with a wave of Viktor's scent. Yuuri is curled up as if he's trying to physically protect his heart.

"Are you uncomfortable, Myshka?"

"No. I just... I thought you'd... I didn't think—" he shuts his eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"After all of that, it's very hard to talk to me, isn't it?"

"I said I don't want to talk."

"Why not?"

"Answering is talking."

Viktor laughs a little. "Well, I do want to talk."

"... You can."

"I can?"

"If you want to say something. You can talk. I just... I don't want to."

Viktor stops and thinks about it. Something that he can say, other than the apologies he already gave. Other than promises that can't be trusted. Something honest and real that will help Yuuri when he hears it.

He pulls a blanket over the two of them, then leans forward and kisses Yuuri's temple, his cheek, his jaw. He goes down the side of Yuuri's neck and stops short of his scent gland when he feels a shiver.

"Dad?" Yuuri says, sounding scared again, and Viktor knows what he wants to say.

"I missed you too."

And with that, the dam breaks. Yuuri lets out a surprised sob and his tears start flowing like they were barely held back.

The coil of his body loosens and Viktor holds him tight, wondering how much he already cried in this bed, alone.

"I'm here," he says, wishing he could rewrite all those memories.

"Months," Yuuri chokes out.

"I know, I'm sorry. But I'm here now. I'm not going."

"It was bad, and then it was fine, and then you  _ left." _ Yuuri's voice is high, disrupted by his uneven breathing, but it doesn't make him sound less accusatory. More, if anything.

He kisses Yuuri's jaw. "I know."

_ "Why?" _

The answer is just more of what Yuuri hates to hear. They're unhealthy, immoral, wrong. Yuuri doesn't need him to say it again. 

Especially now, when Viktor no longer cares.

As Yuuri cries, Viktor promises himself that this is the last time he makes him feel like this.

At one point Yuuri pushes himself into Viktor, looking for even more warmth and even more closeness and even more solid, grounding safety. Viktor kisses gently along the side of his face.

"More," Yuuri says.

Viktor doesn't know what he means, but by now, he's used to it. He hugs Yuuri even tighter and kisses his neck, hoping that one of these ends up being what Yuuri needs.

_ "More." _

The urgency and desperation sound wrong, nothing like the need and desire that linger in Viktor's fantasies.

"Yuura. I'm done running. We have time."

Yuuri cries harder, pushing his face into Viktor's chest, but Viktor feels the tension finally draining. Yuuri's scent starts to mellow out, too. It's not long until the tears run out and he's exhausted. In the quiet, Yuuri's breathing starts to even out.

"I really did miss you."

"I know."

"And I don't hate you."

Viktor laughs softly. "I know. You should sleep, Myshka."

"No," Yuuri protests weakly, "You're supposed to— You're— I want—"

"I put you through enough today. In the morning, whatever you want. I promise."

"You'll touch me?"

Viktor closes his eyes and swears quietly. "Yes. Anything."

Yuuri still tries to move, stretching himself up.

"What is it?"

"Kiss."

Viktor's heart aches with fondness as he leans down and kisses him. The tired boy refuses to allow any distance, even as he slowly falls asleep, trying to match Viktor's lips for as long as he can.

Viktor strokes his cheek and rubs away the last traces of tears. His chest feels full and warm looking at Yuuri's face, and he can't help a smile.

He doesn't know when his love for Yuuri shifted, but it has. He can't change it back by force, and he's done torturing them both by trying. What they have will have to do.

As twisted as it is, it's still a form of love. Maybe for them it can be good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like the pillows? :P


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember: in this universe, morning breath doesn't exist. Let me live my fantasies. Thank you.
> 
> I kept promising more sex? This chapter is almost 4k of filth. Have fun!

It's the first morning with Yuuri in his arms, his face tucked into Viktor's chest, and at first he thinks he's dreaming. He thinks of the living room, still a mess of pillows and his luggage. How long did Yuuri wait there, with a pillow, waiting to throw it at Viktor's face? His aim was impeccable.

Viktor laughs softly and smiles down at Yuuri. Sweet, beautiful Yuuri. And Viktor refused to tell him that for so long now.

He takes in the lines of his face, from the lips, slightly parted, to his lovely dark eyelashes. He doesn't need to memorize them, because he isn't going anywhere now. It's so much easier to enjoy the sight when he isn't forcing himself to let it go.

Yuuri stirs, and before opening his eyes, before Viktor can greet him good morning, he says, "Why'd you stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Kisses. Want more."

Viktor laughs and kisses him, rolling them over so he's on top of Yuuri. Yuuri makes a surprised sound and Viktor savors it, deepening the kiss.

"Good morning, Yuura."

"Good—?" he blinks, finally opening his eyes. "Oh."

Viktor laughs again. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmhm." Barely awake, squinting at the light, Yuuri is adorable. "Best sleep."

"I'm glad."

"Kiss me more," Yuuri says, pulling Viktor closer.

Viktor indulges him for a moment, but cuts it short. "We should get up and eat."

"Not yet. It's still early." Yuuri stops, frowning. "Unless— You're not sending me to school, right? Not today."

Viktor pauses. Honestly, the thought didn't even cross his mind. "I should," he says slowly. "You missed a lot."

Yuuri's eyes go wide and he grips Viktor's shirt as if Viktor would try to pry him off and push him out of the house.. "You can't! Not today!"

Viktor can't help but laugh again. It feels good. "You're right. You're staying home. But I still want you to eat."

"Soon," Yuuri says, tilting his chin up.

Viktor has to kiss him, letting his weight settle gently over Yuuri. He hums against Yuuri's lips, enjoying the way his scent sweetens and then spikes with a sharper note when he coaxes his mouth open to deepen it. Every sound, every motion, is so much sweeter than he remembers.

Yuuri gasps, seeking air, and Viktor starts a trail down his jaw, to his neck.

"Dad. This feels different."

"Yeah?" Viktor says into his neck, not even bothering to pause.

"It's different, why is it different?" Yuuri says with an urgency that's frankly amusing. He's adorable.

Viktor laughs and kisses his lips again, and it feels like Yuuri is trying to find it in the flavor. Viktor doesn't know what Yuuri is looking for, but Yuuri wanted to be touched in the morning, so Viktor isn't stopping. He rolls his mouth over Yuuri's, smooths his hands along Yuuri's thighs as they open, seemingly unconsciously.

Viktor knows when Yuuri finds it. He makes a muffled sound and deepens the kiss, whimpering a little, and Viktor matches him, until Yuuri breaks the kiss and says "You're not sad!"

They both stop, looking at each other, quickened breaths the only audible thing.

"You're not sad," Yuuri repeats like he barely believes it.

Viktor smiles and cups his cheek. "I'm not sad."

Yuuri looks like he wants to cry again, but Viktor thinks it'd be fine if he did this time.

"You're really staying. With me."

"Yes." 

"Not just here. With me."

"As long as you want me to."

"Always!" Yuuri says immediately, pulling on Viktor's shirt to draw him closer. "That's always. You can't leave me. Ever."

Viktor wants to bite his neck and tie them together. Instead he growls, something low and possessive that makes Yuuri gasp when he kisses him again.

It's a kiss to replace a claiming bite, and it makes Yuuri melt instantly. Viktor's hand goes to his neck, stroking over the glands, making Yuuri shiver and whine.

He rolls his hips, rubbing his clothed cock between Yuuri's thighs and drawing the first moan in months. Craving more, he brings a hand to Yuuri's chest, finding his nipples and making him jump.

Yuuri gasps, breaking away. "Dad—"

It's an obvious cry for more, but it makes Viktor pause instead.

He rises to his knees, and before Yuuri has time to worry, hooks his fingers under the band of his leggings.

"You might not be going to school but I still want you to eat."

_ "Later." _

"Yes, later. First I'll touch you like I promised. Then we'll go out."

"Out?"

"Not much food left here," Viktor says, then smiles at him. "And I owe you a date."

Yuuri's eyes light up. Viktor pulls his leggings down with his underwear, and finds out that his memory is  _ nothing _ compared to the sight of Yuuri's body.

He lets his eyes roam, following his hands. This time, he doesn't hold back his awe.

"Gorgeous."

Yuuri shivers visibly, with just that word.

Viktor pushes his legs apart and his mouth waters. If he gets a taste now, they'll be here for hours. They're not in a terrible hurry, but he'd rather not start that just yet.

He circles Yuuri's cunt with a finger, pretending to think things over, and watches the twitching. He trails a finger through the slick, wetting it, resisting the urge to bring it to his lips and taste.

"Every part of you is lovely," he says. "I missed this scent."

Yuuri gasps, then moans when Viktor finally touches his clit. He remembers some of what Yuuri likes, but not everything is explored.

"Lift your shirt for me."

Yuuri reveals the smooth skin of his chest to Viktor's hungry eyes and he bends forward to take a nipple into his mouth. Yuuri jolts, shocked, and moans again, pushing his chest into Viktor's mouth, rolling his hips into Viktor's hand. He tries to push himself closer for more and ends up twisting, writhing, his body begging for more along with his voice.

Viktor lets go of a nipple for a moment to stop and look at him, to see the flushed, needy mess of him. He surrenders so easily to Viktor's touch.

Slick gushes out of him and Viktor has to push his fingers inside, watch the pink folds spread around his fingers, before returning them to Yuuri's clit and watching him moan again.

Breathing hard, Yuuri pulls his shirt further up. "Daddy?"

So sweet. Viktor stops to kiss him, to say, "Anything, Yuura," before bringing his attention back to Yuuri's chest.

Yuuri comes with a gasp, and Viktor decides that later today he'll get a scream.

While Yuuri catches his breath, Viktor sucks a bruise into the skin of his stomach. The only blemish on his skin. It makes Viktor smile.

"We should shower first," Viktor says. "Then I'll take you out."

"A date," Yuuri smiles. He looks so happy Viktor regrets taking so long to get here.

"A date." Viktor strokes Yuuri's bangs away from his face. "A very special breakfast date. With some apology elements."

"I don't want an apology. You're here. And you're staying."

Viktor feels his expression melt into a fond smile. "Okay. So just let me spoil you."

"Not as an apology?"

"No. As a thank you."

Viktor doesn't take him far. They have a favorite place that serves breakfast nearby. The waitress smiles when she sees them. She asks about Viktor's absence and jokes with Yuuri about having had the house for himself.

"I would have killed for that at your age," she says.

She gives them both menus and points them to a table that they usually like.

"Somewhere a bit more private, if possible?" Viktor asks.

"Oh, sure," she says with a kind, unworried smile. "Celebrating something?"

Viktor doesn't show his relief. "Yeah."

"Thought so. I could see today is special just looking at you. I'll get you dessert on us when you're done."

"What do you think she meant?" Yuuri asks a little nervously as they sit down. "What did she see?"

"I don't think it's anything we should worry about, whatever she meant."

Yuuri nods and looks down at his menu. Viktor doesn't stop him from ordering something sweet and sugary. He ate badly for months. He can enjoy one day not thinking about a diet before Viktor gets him back on healthy home cooked meals.

"Today really is special," Yuuri says as they wait for the food.

"It is."

"I want to start every day like today."

"Is that so?" Viktor says, teasing.

"I mean..." Yuuri flushes. "I meant hearing you laugh."

Viktor smiles. Such simple words, but from Yuuri's mouth they're so precious. Viktor wants to remember every single word of affection and save it close to his heart.

He sees Yuuri glancing to his lips, his face still a lonely pink, and promises, "When we get home."

The food arrives and Yuuri eats like he's trying to rush through it, which makes Viktor smile.

"Do you want to get the date over with?"

Yuuri stops. "Um. To get home."

"We have time," Viktor reminds him.

Yuuri flushes, a pretty pink blush. "That doesn't mean I'm patient."

Viktor laughs. "You're right."

"You'll take me out again? On a— Um... Like this?"

"I plan to. But let's enjoy this one, right now. Today I'm finding that I like taking my time."

Yuuri nods and does slow down. Viktor doesn't feel like asking or telling stories about the last few months, so they don't talk much for most of it. The quiet presence is enough for both. Yuuri looks so happy he's radiant, even as he tries to act casual.

There's a moment, though, where Yuuri's smile dims. He asks, "What changed?"

"I did."

Yuuri looks up. "You?"

"What else would it be?"

Yuuri bites his lip. "I thought... You left because of something I started. So I thought..."

"If I  _ wanted _ to say no, I wouldn't have tried to leave. I would have just said no."

Yuuri nods, but still looks nervous. He has more to say. Viktor waits for him to speak again. Nothing in this meal should be rushed.

"Dad, if... If you're not sad anymore..." Yuuri starts quietly, and Viktor glances around them, just to be safe.

"Yes?"

"Does that mean I can touch you, too?" he whispers.

Viktor closes his eyes. They're in public. This isn't the time for strong reactions.

"If you want."

"I always wanted to."

Viktor swears under his breath. "We can talk about this when we're home, Yuura."

Luckily, he has time to calm down before the waitress checks on them and gets them a small cupcake to share.

At home, as soon as the front door closes behind them, Viktor captures Yuuri's face between his palms and kisses him.

Yuuri smiles. "You're impatient too!"

Because he's right, Viktor kisses him again.

"Did you have fun, Yuura?"

"I want that to be our first date."

Viktor laughs. "I think it was." A little regretful, he adds, "I'll take you back to the beach another time."

"It couldn't have been today anyway. The beach should be an evening date."

Smiling, Viktor hugs him and kisses his forehead. "Of course."

"Can we go back to bed now?" 

"Now?"

Yuuri nods. "You said I can touch you."

Viktor shudders. "Okay."

He takes Yuuri to his room, to sit in bed. Yuuri looks nervous, but he stops Viktor when he's about to unbutton his own shirt. 

"Can I?"

Viktor smiles and leans back, leaving the shirt and its buttons for Yuuri.

Yuuri works slowly, eyes hungry for every bit of exposed skin. He hesitates before touching Viktor's chest, not used to this being allowed to him.

"Anything you want," Viktor reminds him.

Yuuri places a hand over Viktor's heartbeat and shivers. Again, Viktor notices how small he looks.

"Yuura. Don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"What?"

"I mean it. Even if it's something I enjoy doing to you. Nothing that you hate can make me happy here."

Yuuri swallows and nods. He closes his eyes and leans forward, resting his head on Viktor's chest to listen to his heartbeat.

"Sorry," Yuuri starts, arms winding around Viktor. "I know you expected... Um..."

"No. I said anything you want."

Yuuri nods and closes his eyes. Listening. Viktor doesn't rush him.

"Your scent can stay when you're not here," Yuuri says. "This can't. You have to be here."

Viktor stays in place, but hearing that, he wants to flip Yuuri over and devour him.

Yuuri's hand starts moving, gentle, across the skin of Viktor's chest. He brushes a nipple, traces Viktor's collarbone, then the muscles of his chest and stomach. He kisses the spot he listened to and touches the edge of Viktor's pants.

Viktor thinks he'll ask for help there, but his stubborn Yuuri blushes hard and pushes through. Viktor only interrupts him to remove the unbuckled belt entirely, for his own comfort.

When Viktor's cock is free from his underwear, Yuuri hesitates again.

"Nothing you're uncomfortable with," Viktor reminds him.

Yuuri nods. The tips of his fingers touch the heated skin with no purpose or direction. An exploratory touch. Viktor moans quietly.

"The skin is so smooth," Yuuri says, drawing a soft, barely-there touch towards the head. 

He isn't trying to draw pleasure out of Viktor. He's busy studying him. Staring, wide eyed, at his own hand on Viktor's cock.

It's the hottest thing Viktor experienced in his life. He sighs.

"How..."

"Hmm?"

"How do I... Make it good?"

"It already feels good."

"No, I mean... You can't... Come, from this, right? How do I... Um..."

Viktor doesn't want to teach him. Eventually Yuuri will learn. Inexperience fades and it can't be brought back. Viktor wants this, for as long as he can have it.

"Don't worry about that."

"But—"

Viktor cups his cheek. "I love the way you're touching me right now. I promise. This is good."

If Yuuri could grow any redder, Viktor thinks he would have.

"Just keep doing whatever you're comfortable with, or stop if you aren't."

Yuuri nods.

He's kneeling on the bed in front of Viktor. Uncertain and nervous and underneath that, excited. Viktor brushes hair away from his face, charmed.

Yuuri's touch grows firmer, just a little, and Viktor groans.

Viktor's eyes widen as Yuuri bites his lips, then licks them, then bends forward to kiss the head of his cock. The boy pauses, considering, and licks the slit once.

Viktor swears.  _ "Yuura." _

"Sorry, I—"

Frowning down at him, Viktor says, "Why on earth would you apologize for that?"

"I— I don't know. Was that okay?"

Viktor laughs. "Do you really need to ask?"

Embarrassed, Yuuri looks down. He begins scattering little kisses, little licks, gentle touches as his hand begins to stroke up and down the shaft.

The sight is even better than the feeling.

Viktor strokes his hair, murmurs "Lovely," exhales "So good." The build up is slow and Yuuri pauses often, looking up and seeking Viktor's approval. Even so, he does recognize when Viktor is close.

For a moment he seems to forget the uncertainty and insecurity, excited and proud. He sucks on the head and Viktor gasps, moaning loudly.

When Yuuri moves back, letting it slip out of his mouth, Viktor comes, painting Yuuri's cheek, his chin, his neck.

Viktor stares, stunned, chest heaving. Then Yuuri licks a drop of come near his lips, tasting it.

The sight is too much.

Still breathless, Viktor pushes Yuuri back, taking over and kissing until Yuuri is moaning and pushing into him.

"I made you feel good," Yuuri gasps when Viktor lets him.

Viktor huffs a little laugh. "So good," he says. "Like being touched by an angel. Such a generous boy I have."

"I wanna do more. Like you do for me. I can do better."

"Yuura, you were  _ perfect." _

"Please, dad?"

Viktor noses at the side of Yuuri's neck, encouraging more of his scent. The room is already saturated by the mix of them, but Viktor greedily inhales Yuuri's concentrated scent. He licks over the gland, letting it coat his tongue, and Yuuri whimpers.

"Okay," Viktor says. "You want to do something for me?"

"Yes."

Viktor kisses him. "So sweet. Thank you."

Viktor rises and pulls Yuuri with him. He lies down and brings Yuuri over him.

"Dad, what—"

"Too embarrassing?"

"It's— I'm— You said I'll do something for  _ you." _

Viktor smiles and rubs a hand along Yuuri's thigh. "Believe me, I'm being very selfish asking this. Would you do me this favor, Myshka?"

Looking a little overwhelmed, Yuuri takes off his clothes and comes to straddle Viktor's face, as instructed. He grips the headboard, legs trembling, but stays hovering a little too far above Viktor.

That's okay. Viktor breathes in, inhaling the intoxicating scent of Yuuri's slick. So close after so long. He wraps his arms around Yuuri's thighs and pulls him down. 

He doesn't have the presence of mind to tease. With the first touch of slick on his tongue, a sound tears itself from somewhere deep within his chest.

Viktor licks and sucks and rolls his mouth over the delicious heat of Yuuri's body, digging his fingers into his soft thigh and holding him in place as he jerks and writhes above him.

He hears Yuuri moaning, but it's distant. Every conscious thought is dedicated to the taste, the texture, the smell.

There's a wet burst of flavor as Yuuri comes, his voice high.

Yuuri starts to pull away, expecting Viktor to stop. Viktor has no such intentions. He keeps Yuuri pinned and pushes his tongue inside, lapping up the slick from his pulsing cunt.

"Dad? Wha—  _ Ah—" _ Yuuri jolts, his voice dissolving into cries of pleasure that ring in Viktor's ears.

Heaven. If there's proof that Yuuri was meant to be his, it's this.

Yuuri whimpers, starting to rock into Viktor rather than holding himself, stunned. Viktor rewards him by taking a hand off his thighs and pushing his fingers deep, sucking and licking circles around the clit.

His only regret is that with his mouth occupied, he can't tell Yuuri how this feels. He deserves to know that Viktor would spend an eternity here, like this, and never have enough.

He does his best to show it.

Viktor tastes Yuuri's orgasms one after the other, allowing him to relax with little detours to suck marks into sweaty patches of skin. Yuuri's glands get as much attention as he can bring himself to give before he's forced by a need he can't deny and gets his mouth back where he most wants it.

He promised himself Yuuri's screams, and he has them. Yuuri's throat is scraped raw, overwhelmed and oversensitive.

Too weak to hold himself up, Yuuri lets go of the headboard and pulls away, falling back on top of Viktor's body.

"Sorry," he says, voice weak and shaky, "can't... can't hold."

Viktor sits up a little, pulling himself from under Yuuri's body. He isn't ready to be done, but he tries not to show it. He kisses Yuuri's thigh. "Shhh, don't worry. Wonderful job. Thank you." His own voice is barely familiar too.

Yuuri whimpers, closing his eyes.

The heady flavors are better than memory and fantasy combined, and Viktor needs more. He holds Yuuri's hips and takes him close again, kissing his inner thighs.

Yuuri says, "'s okay? Like this?"

Viktor almost laughs. "Perfect," he says, and sucks on the outer lips, making Yuuri twitch.

In this position he can wrap both arms around Yuuri's waist, letting gravity keep his legs open and lowering his mouth to bury his face between them. Yuuri's hands grab at Viktor's thighs. Nothing is left of his screams or his cries. His voice is weak, breathy, choked, until Viktor makes him come one last time on his tongue.

Yuuri barely reacts when Viktor climbs over him. He smiles and opens his eyes when Viktor kisses his temple.

"Feeling okay, Myshka?"

Yuuri tilts his chin up and Viktor indulges him with a long kiss, deep and sweet like Yuuri deserves. He strokes Yuuri's thighs, blooming with bruises from his grip and from his mouth.

Now that he's no longer worshipping between Yuuri's thighs, he's aware of his cock, aching and hard and so close to where he wants to bury it.

He teases along the opening and Yuuri gasps, closes his eyes, "Oh.  _ Oh." _

Viktor hums, questioning, and kisses his neck.

"Please. Daddy,  _ please." _

Viktor slides in effortlessly, sighing.

Yuuri is too weak to hold him, so Viktor settles on top of Yuuri, foreheads touching, keeping their bodies a close slide of sweaty skin.

"I love you," Viktor says, and only realizes that he didn't say it yet when Yuuri's eyes flutter open to look at him with tired awe.

"I—" Yuuri tries, but then a breathy moan interrupts him when Viktor pushes his cock inside again.

"I love you," Viktor says again, because Yuuri deserves to hear it and more.

"Dad—" despite the exhaustion, Yuuri stirs, moving and seeking something in the rocking of their bodies.

"I wanted a bond too," Viktor admits softly. "I still do. My mark on your neck. Yours on mine."

Yuuri whines, needy, hands trying weakly to cling to Viktor. "Daddy— Daddy, I can't—"

"What is it, sweetheart?" Viktor noses along his neck. "What does my beautiful boy need?"

Yuuri lets out a sharp gasp and a raspy cry.

"I love you," Viktor says again, finally free, and he repeats it over and over. He's done caring about his love being wrong. It's real and deep and strong and—

When Yuuri starts crying, Viktor smiles.

"Daddy, I— I—"

Viktor looks at him, at his beautiful brown eyes, and kisses him because he doesn't need Yuuri's words right now.

"I'm happy too, Myshka."

Yuuri sobs into Viktor's neck, hands resting on Viktor's back and Viktor holds him. If his body wasn't so weak, Yuuri would be clinging, pulling Viktor as close as he can be, demanding more, faster, harder. But Yuuri can't, so Viktor lets himself be gentle, fucking into him slowly.

Eventually Yuuri's head drops back to the pillow and he says a single word: "Mine."

Viktor snaps. 

"Yes," he gasps, "yes, always. Mine."

He lifts Yuuri's thighs and folds him over, driving into him, growling,  _ "Mine." _

Yuuri is lost to it, mouth open, breathing in and out until Viktor comes and the boy gasps and raises his head, shivering.

Viktor collapses on top of him, barely managing to keep from crushing the smaller body.

For a while they just lie there, breathing. When Viktor is able to think again, he laughs. Yuuri might not know how to touch him, but he knows how to push.

"Daddy... Did you mean it?" Yuuri asks, sounding like he most needs a bottle of water, not a conversation.

"What?"

"A bond? Can I... Can we...?"

"Mmm." He lifts himself on unsteady arms to look at Yuuri. "Did you know I held you first? When you were born."

Yuuri nods, frowning.

"Nothing was the same after that. You'll always be my first priority. Nothing," he says, "is more important than you."

Yuuri's confusion is plain on his face. It makes Viktor smile. He nudges Yuuri's nose with his own.

"When you're older, if you're still sure. Not over the one I have, but on the other side. One mark for each of you, the two people that changed my life. The ones I love the most."

Loves so different from each other and so cherished each.

"Okay?"

Yuuri nods, looking too shocked to speak.

Viktor kisses him. And because he'll never grow tired of saying it: "I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is done. Wow.
> 
> I hope you had as much fun as I did, playing in this sandbox! Thank you so much for supporting and enabling!!!


End file.
